"You aren't going to the beach like that." Asher Adams, my father stood with his heavily tattooed arms crossed in the kitchen of our expansive Malibu home. A you shall not pass unmovable mountain of muscle.
This argument was one we'd already had three times this summer. A repeat trade of jabs. Where he'd say I was practically naked and I would remind him it was my body my choice.
To his credit, usually my swim wear was of the one piece variety, but this summer I'd given up on covering up. I was at my own home, and I had as much of a right to a two piece as the next girl...with a semi-private beach...in one of the nations most expensive zip codes. Malibu, USA baby.
"You act like your pool parties back in the day we're so PG..." I grumbled, switching strategies, having heard stories from Uncle Snake.
"What did you say, young lady?" He dug in further, and I rolled my green eyes behind my black cat eye sunglasses. My mother had taken me to Kitson, a small trendy boutique on Robertson Blvd, and helped me pick out the tiny black thong bikini set which complimented my full breasts and thin hips.
It was so unlike anything else I'd owned, living in sweats and UCLA sweaters, dressing in menswear that overwhelmed my 5'10" frame. I hated anything tight fitting and exposing, and this swim suit was everything I hated and more. Not that my mother really noticed, she talked to me as she texted one of her many needy song writing clients.
"I wasn't implying anything, daddy. Truly." I insisted, trying my damndest to win him over despite everyone knowing my younger sister, Collins, was his favorite. She could do no wrong, even when she totaled her fully loaded BMW X5 - three months after her sixteenth birthday.
"You know you aren't a child anymore..." My father chastised, taking a long sip out of his Coke can on the quartz countertop. "You have to be careful how you act, and dress, and behave, you don't want guys to get the wrong impression..."
Except I did. I was sick of being the only virgin in college, so freaking innocent, when every other girl in my dorm was on their third or fourth sexually active relationship...that month.
It wasn't like I hadn't had my fair share of opportunities. There was Chad, the football player who felt me up on my twin bed, and Rashad who kissed me at the dance club, and Kyle who put his hands down my pants in his Maserati, but all had failed to seal the deal. Which was entirely my fault. I couldn't do it. Couldn't do anyone else, because there was only one person I wanted. And he was two thousand miles away. In a different country. Forgetting I existed for the past four and half years...
"Daddy, it's just a swim suit." I insisted, pulling my thoughts away from him.
"And hell is just hot yoga." He rebutted.
I stifled my laughter. My father was always so strict, while my mother was so laid back. The dynamic was so incredibly backwards considering their pasts, and how fucking stuffy my grandparents on my mother's side were.
"Did you forget our beach is practically private?" I challenged, my hands on my hips, digging into the concave parts of my hip bones. "Unless you're concerned Mr. and Mrs. Rollins will return from their Croatian vacation, or weird Mrs. Weinholtz will re-surface for the first time in five years..."
"Anything's possible..." He grunted, rolling his brilliant hazel eyes, eyes that matched my sister's. Our eyes weren't our only difference. My slim nose and hips and my large lips and bust came from my mother. As did my naturally blonde hair that I kept cut just below my chin in a severe bob. Today, I'd pulled my platinum locks up tight into a bun at the nape of my neck - all in anticipation of surfing.
"I plan on wearing a wet suit anyways." I insisted, my hand on the door to the back patio that lead to our sandy beach below. We'd moved into this house just before I was born, so it was all I knew. The house came with the weird neighbors, and a pretentious zip code, and a boy that lived three houses down on the left...
"It only takes one slip to get pregnant, Avery..." My father warned, and I rolled my eyes again behind my sunglasses. It was just a fucking swimsuit, not an invitation to snag my virginity. I knew sex could have all sorts of implications. Which was why I'd been on the pill for the past year. Not that he needed to know that. Or that it had been necessary...
Before dear ole' dad could give any more chastity lectures, his phone rang on the counter and he held up a finger. "This isn't over..."
"Can't wait to pick up where we left off..." I smiled, as he turned and I pushed open the door. The early June day was absolutely perfect. It wasn't a hair above seventy degrees, with a light breezing wind that kicked up the waves, but not the sand. I grinned as I yanked the black rubber wet suit up my body and grabbed for my white and sky blue surf board before charging head-first into the waves.
When life was frustrating, or too predictable, I craved the way surfing made me feel. It gave me the most wicked combination of chaos and balance. I closed my eyes and felt the sea move beneath me, tickling my calves as the sun kissed my face. This past year I'd felt so...off. They said you could reinvent yourself in college and be whoever you wanted, which was true, but just not for me.
Sure, my body had reinvented itself. My cup size doubled, my skin cleared, and my GPA had never been higher. However, I'd never felt like more of an imposter. Despite my new shiny exterior, I was still the same awkward insecure girl I'd always been. Laughing too loud around the opposite sex, and sitting in my room reading about love instead of living in it.
I sighed, examining a huge wave that popped up in the horizon, and bit my lip at the challenge. Growing up on the beach I had become a pretty good surfer, and sand volleyball player, and sand castle builder.
I channeled the first of these gifts, and popped up easily on my board, riding the wave, cruising toward my private beach until I caught sight of someone standing there.
The spectator was beautiful. Tall, and dark, and stunning, and everything...male. Even from this distance, I could make out his bright blue eyes and dark brown hair that was wet and shoved straight back. His tanned toned torso seemed to go on forever, until meeting his black swim trunks. His skin was smooth and unblemished of tattoos and built for me. At least in my own masochistic mind.
I leaned forward unintentionally toward him, my toes catching on the front of my board and I toppled forward, headfirst into the massive wave, swallowing half the ocean and all of my pride. I choked and rolled in the riptide, wiping out worse than I had in years. Probably since the day he left.
"Fuck!" I screamed, pulling my blonde ponytail from its holder, when I finally emerged from the water.
"I see you haven't gotten any better at surfing..." Elijah West called from the beach as I did the sting ray shuffle toward him.
"I guess being famous hasn't taught you how to be polite." I challenged, planting my surf board in the sand.
I pretended to pout for only a half second before I ran to him, launching myself into his outstretched arms and tried to breathe normally as his strong arms wound around me. He was taller than I remembered, and stronger, and his megawatt smile was brighter, showcasing two deep dimples on his cheeks. Damn he was...hot. And as he patted my back twice, I was reminded that despite the years apart, absence hadn't made the heart grow fonder. I was still solidly in the friend zone. A terrible place to be with Eli West.
"Whatever, kid. I'm not famous." He set me down and took a step back as I towel dried my hair.
"Tell that to your billboard on Sunset..." I laughed, pulling my water bottle from the sand and shivered in my soaked wet suit.
"Can you unzip me?" I turned and he pulled the tab, his fingers grazing my back.
"Thanks." I muttered, taking a step back, stripping the wet material from my skin and made sure that the swimsuit had stayed intact from my massive wipeout. Nipples covered, ass uncovered. Check. Swimsuit secure.
"Woah!" Eli held up a large hand to shield his eyes from my chest. "What in the hell are you wearing?!"
"It's called a swimsuit, West. Calm down." I huffed, feeling stung by his reaction.
"That is not a swimsuit, Aves. That's strings tied together. Oh my gosh, and it's a thong?!" He practically threw the white beach towel around my body.
"I'm sorry I don't look like the supermodels in Vancouver..." I snapped, feeling stung by the way he had been so quick to cover my curves.
"It's not that, shit, it's...god I don't know how to say this." He ran his hand through his hair, and his deep blue eyes looked out to the matching water. "You're...different than the last time I saw you."
"Well considering it's been four and a half years..."
"It hasn't been that long..."
I sat down in the sand and he sat next to me, facing the ocean as we spoke. "Yeah. You left at the end of my Freshman year. In high school. And here we are with me just finishing my freshman year. In college." I explained, sifting sand through my damp fingers and watching as it stuck in places. "You just wrapped, what, the fourth season of A Dangerous Game?"
"Damn. I guess you're right." He muttered. "But you're forgetting, I saw you at Christmas a few years back."
"Yeah. When I was sixteen. Collins' age." I nudged him with my shoulder.
"Shit. How is Collins?"
"She's good. Probably out with Trinity. You know Chloe and Summer Farrow's daughter? They've been dating off and on for the past year."
"Oh yeah?" Eli raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about my sister's ever changing sexual orientation. "Well I'm glad she's happy."
"Not really. There's always some drama between them. Screaming matches and thrown cell phones and accusations of infidelity. Most of which are true." I groaned, lying back on my towel and squinting my eyes against the sun.
Eli laid back with me and I was hyper-aware of how close his left pinkie finger was to mine. "What about you, Aves? Any UCLA guys or girls peaking your interest?" I turned to look at him, realizing his blue eyes were already studying me.
"Nah. I've been pretty much married to my studies...you?" I held my breath, not really wanting to know his answer.
"Nope. Loving myself has been a full time job." He laughed richly, and I giggled thinking for the tenth time in the past ten minutes how insanely wonderful he was.
I had grown up with Elijah since birth. Losing teeth, and starting my period, and having braces, and experiencing teenage life until he left to pursue his dreams.
My towel fell to my hips as I sat back up and I could feel his eyes on my chest again. My cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree in response. "When did you get those?" He grinned, and I shoved him a little.
"They're called boobs, West." I rolled my eyes, and stood the rest of the way, letting my towel fall to the sand. "I'd say they're a newer addition to my life. Maybe like six months ago?" I shrugged and his eyes unapologetically raked the rest of my body. "And before you ask, no I didn't pay for them. They're all me." I bit my lip, trying to ignore my father who held open the blinds to study us.
"You're different." Eli muttered again, and I picked up my towel, making sure to bend over slowly in front of him, liking this little game we were playing. How much skin could Avery Adams show before either her father or Elijah West demanded she put some damn clothes on?
"Yeah. Like I said, it's been a while...people change." I lied, wringing my hair out while pretending like the past four years meant nothing. Like I hadn't religiously watched every episode of his show, and every interview in an attempt at closeness with him again. Sure, he occasionally texted and called, but lately those calls were coming fewer and far between.
"I can see that." He said a little shortly, and I shielded my eyes to look at him again. His face was a little redder, and his hands gripped and released at his sides. Was he....upset with me?!
"I'm sorry, it's just been a minute, and I missed you." I admitted, softening for him in the way only Eli could soften me. I was usually so freaking closed off to everyone, despite how much my attire said otherwise.
"I missed you too, kid." He hugged me with one arm, careful to maintain his distance from me and my new chest. "You wanna go long boarding tomorrow morning?"
"Can you even do that anymore? You know with the paparazzi stalking your every move..." I smiled, only half-kidding.
"We'll figure something out." He shrugged. "Now shut up and go put on some clothes. I don't want you to get arrested for public indecency before I have the chance to spend the summer with you."
"Okay, dad." I waved at him and began retreating back to my own house as he walked down the beach. The idea of spending an entire summer with Eli was both invigorating and terrifying at the same time. I'd been praying for him to come home for the past four years, but now I just wanted to send him back. Three months, friend zoning with the love of my life was bound to kill me...