I TIPTOE INTO the house and shut the door behind me as quietly as possible. I take a deep breath when I realize there's no one screaming out 'why are you here so late?!' I smirk to myself and turn away from the door before freezing into place. "Oh, crap."
"Morning," Oba says. She's smiling victoriously and the twins and Robyn are on her other side, looking relieved to see me and nervous for whatever consequence I'd have for being out all night. "Care to explain?"
I chuckle nervously, willing my extremely hungover head to stop pounding. "Um...," I start, realizing there was no good way to finish that sentence.
"Whose car was that?" Oba asks, and I swallow hard.
I sigh. It wasn't like I could just lie. "It was Sebastian, Auntie."
Every single one of them gasps. I roll my eyes and make my way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and a string cheese. "Sebastian? You're kidding, right? That kid has made your life a living hell for nearly a decade!" Bridget yells.
"My life was sort of a living hell anyway," I mutter. My eyes flash to Robyn. Her expression is incredulous. "Robs—"
"You lied to me," she hisses. "Guess our promise didn't mean anything to you, huh?"
I fume, cheeks flushing. "Robyn, you can't tell me who and who not to hang out with! Okay? You've been this way since we were freaking kids! You don't control me, yeah? You're not, like, my mom or something!"
The room falls silent. I gasp softly. I hadn't meant to get so upset. Cursing softly to myself, I grab my snack and run upstairs, shutting the door behind me. Pictures rattle all across my walls from the force of me shutting the door. I groan and rub my hands over my face, tossing the food and snacks over onto the bed.
My phone pings and I pull it out, sighing deeply. A small smile returns to my face as I read it.
it's Saturday. surf's up.
It was Sebastian's number. I'd had it from years ago but I wasn't sure if it was still accurate. Apparently, it was. I call him, biting my lip as it rings. It doesn't ring for long. "Braylen," he says. He sounded happy I'd called.
"Sebastian," I respond, surprised he'd answered so quickly. "Can we maybe do a rain check? I have the worst hangover and it's like World War III over here; my family knows we're hanging out."
"Nope. You said it yourself, you can barely swim! If you want to learn to surf before the water's too cold, we need to start today. And I'll have something ready for your hangover. I'm kind of the king of hangover remedies," he says. "As for your family...well, that sounds like their problem, no?"
I think. He was kind of right. I was the one who endured him all these years. I had the right to make the decision.
"I'll be there in two hours."
¥
"Adams!" Sebastian shouts gleefully. "You made it!" His last few words are cut off as he blends a dark brown smoothie, smiling wickedly. My stomach turns as he pours into a glass and hands it to me.
I raise an eyebrow. "The hell is that?"
"It's your hangover smoothie," he says, all charm. "It'll help, trust me. This is coming from a guy who got crossed and woke up naked in a gas station bathroom. Worst hangover of my life; this cured it."
I blush, trying really hard not to picture Sebastian Grey naked in a gas station bathroom. "What's in it?" I ask instead, moving closer to him. I grab the glass and take a sniff, nearly retching. "Bone marrow?"
"Only a little," he says with a grin and a wink. "Just don't think about it. Bottoms up, Brayls."
I glower at him and take a long sip of the muck. It was disgusting, but not unbearable. I finish the glass in three large sips and place it back on his counter. He smiles at me deviously. "What?"
"How's the aftertaste?"
"After...?," I start, and then my mouth tingles. "Jesus, Sebastian! This tastes like hot trash!"
He laughs boisterously, setting the blender and glass in the dishwasher and sliding on his sandals. "Come on, let's go."
I cough softly and follow him out the back door and onto the beach. Some of his neighbors that also shared the private beach were enjoying it today, albeit not many. Just a woman with a swollen belly and her other two kids along with two men in Speedos. I shuddered and looked away.
Sebastian slides his sandals off in front of the water and I follow suit. He tugs off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing tanned skin with endless muscle and no body fat. I take off my own shirt, my pale skin white next to his golden body. I was already in my shorts and so was he, so all there was left to do was run into the water. I go to do just that but he grabs my wrist, stopping me. "What?" I ask.
"You can't just jump into the water like you're Michael Phelps or something. The ocean isn't just some small kiddie pool, dude," Sebastian says, pulling me back. "There are a few rules to go over first."
I raise a single eyebrow. "Rules?"
"For your own safety, Braylen," he says, sounding put out. "Rule number one: watch your step. There are lots of rocks and coral and animals that might harm you if you're not paying attention. If something happens, you've gotta let me know immediately so I can help; I've probably encountered everything there is out there."
"Sure, Poseidon. What else?" I mumble.
Sebastian ignores my jab. "Rule number two: if you end up too far out and you know you can't swim your way back, float on your back until someone can help. It gets pretty deep out there and it's actually surprisingly easy to get caught in the currents. Okay?"
I hum in agreement, crossing my arms. "Anything else?"
"Yeah. Last rule: don't go too far away from me, alright?" he asks. I look over at him and see that his expression is fully serious. Was I just imagining it or did he really care?
"Okay," I respond, smiling softly.
"Okay," he repeats, grinning. "I think you're ready."
We walk into the water, him looking like a Greek God and me looking like a child with a foot rash. I step out of the way of anything and everything I see: seaweed, rocks. I'd be avoiding the sand if I could.
Sebastian turns back to look at me and I send him a thumbs up. He laughs and reaches back and grabs my hand, pulling me next to him. "I didn't mean to make you scared, Brayls. The ocean isn't gonna bite you. You can walk normally."
"Sorry," I mumble as my hips begin to sink underneath the water. Sebastian was still only thigh deep. "When do we start surfing?"
"When I can stop holding your hand in the water," he says teasingly as a wave laps over us. "Not for a while. Surfing is pretty dangerous. We've got to work up to it."
My chest submerged underneath the water and I gasp a bit, anxiety taking over me. "Okay, Sebastian, can we start the lessons now? Because I'm one second away from becoming a member of Atlantis."
"The things you say, Braylen Adams," Sebastian says, chuckling. "Okay, do you know what treading is?"
"Sure," I say.
"Yeah?" he asks, sounding surprised.
I nod. "It's like walking a certain type of way—"
"Not that one, Adams. Treading water!"
I blush. "Oh. Then, no."
Sebastian smiles at me and then slowly lets me go. He nods his head to signify the fact he's demonstrating and then brings his arms around his chest in a swimming motion. He stays in place, but he's staying above water. I raise an eyebrow. "I can't do that," I say.
"It's easy," he says, standing up next to me again. "All you're doing is swimming in place. No biggie."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, but drowning is kind of a biggie!"
"Stop, Brayls. Look, do you honestly think I'd stand here and let you drown? Don't you trust me?" Sebastian asks, running a wet hand through his hair. I sigh deeply before nodding. "Yes, you trust me or yes, you think I'll let you drown?"
I smirk. "Maybe a little bit of both?" The last word I say comes out as a question and Sebastian grins at me. Sighing, I begin moving my arms as he did, taking my feet off the ocean floor.
"That's it, kick your feet a little," he urges, smiling. I move my feet rapidly as I struggle to keep my head above water. I was sure I didn't look as graceful as he had, but I wasn't drowning.
"I'm doing it!" I explain, laughing surprisedly.
"Yeah, yeah, I knew you could," he responds, chuckling along with me.
"What's next? Breast strokes? Butterfly?" I ask, grinning widely.
Sebastian snorts. "Okay, Phelps. I think we're good for the day."
I frown. "We didn't even touch the surfboards!"
"You can hardly swim, Braylen!" he exclaims with the same tone. "I can't just throw you on a surfboard and expect you to float. Come on, we're going in."
He grabs my hand again, leading us out of the water. I frown a bit deeper. I wasn't ready for this session to be over. I wasn't sure if I was just eager to learn or eager to be by his side, but I knew that I wanted to stay next to him. I sighed softly.
Was I really starting to actually like spending time with Sebastian Grey?
We make it to the shore and slip back on our sandals before retreating into his house. Sebastian doesn't seem worried about the ocean water dripping on his rich floors, just hands me a long white towel and a bottle of water. I take both with a small "thanks," swaddling myself in the towel. He disappears into his room and reappears in a fresh pair of shorts, this time khaki, and a Hawaiian shirt that he chose to leave buttoned open.
I open my mouth to say something but he beats me to it. "You want to get some lunch?" he asks, eyebrows scrunching up a bit.
I flush. "Oh, um. Yeah, sure."
Sebastian flashes me a megawatt smile. "Great." He turns to grab his keys and as his back is turned I smile in satisfaction.
In less than twenty minutes we're in his immaculately clean car. I'd changed into a pair of his jeans and my own shirt, though I'd had to roll up the pant legs a couple of times to compensate for our height difference.
Sebastian was the type of person that didn't believe in air conditioning in the car. He had the windows rolled down completely, allowing the fresh air to come into the car. He turned on a tape, grinning wickedly at me. "You're gonna love this."
I raise an eyebrow at the intense banjo music that he was blasting, fighting a smile from my face as he begins singing. "Little Jimmy Jackson is jackin' up his Bronco!
He's gonna lay a little rubber later on at the truck pull!
An' all the girls are getting' pretty... they're sprayin' on the White Ra—"
"Oh my God, Sebastian, is this country music?" I ask, reaching over and turning the song off.
He reaches back over and turns it back on at a lesser volume. I watch as he drives one-handedly, turning down the street like a pro. "What gave it away?" he asks, winking at me.
I flush. "Nobody without a cowboy hat would name their kid Jimmy Jackson."
Sebastian laughs loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. I wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road instead, but it was such a surreal thing to see him laugh after so many emotionless years that all I could do was stare at him.
"You're certainly something, Braylen Adams."
I smile. "Yeah, you are too."