Page 22 of The Summer I First Saw You
Bad, Daisy. Not why we’re here.
“Harrison, wake up. It’s time to surf.”
He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t even budge. I shake his shoulder and he rolls away from me, mumbling something in his sleep about a bilateral agreement, which makes it even weirder that he’s got an erection.
So I do climb on the bed, though in a far less sexy way than I’d previously imagined.
I’m standing.
And jumping.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” I chant, and though this is certainly not going to convince him that I’m an adult, it’s effective.
He rolls onto his stomach. “Daisy, get the fuck out of my room.”
“We’re surfing,” I say, continuing to jump, making the bed roll beneath him. “And it’s high tide right now. That’s why I told you to be up by seven.”
He covers his head with a pillow. “Daisy, get the fuck out of my room.Now.”
Shit. I’ve looked forward to this all week, and he’s clearly not going to budge. I jump on the floor and land with a thud. “Awesome.” My voice is flat, barely disguising the ache of disappointment in my chest. “Then I guess we’re agreeing I can stay and surfwhereverI want.”
I walk out, slamming the door behind me, but there’s a lump in my throat as I head down the stairs. I really saw him going along with it. I saw more than that, too. I pictured him getting out in the water, riding a wave or two, and remembering how good it was. I imagined us as a team. Like, not a professional surf team, but just…buddies. Buddies who’d wake up every morning at daybreak to surf, who’d get out there in the afternoons. I thought he’d remember who he used to be and allow me to be there beside him when he discovered it, and I was so fucking excited about it, wasn’t I? Which is pathetic. The guy doesn’t even want me in his home, so he wasn’t about to suddenly turn into my best friend.
I go to the garage and pull on my wetsuit, fighting tears. I hate him for ruining this, for making me go out there alone when—
The door from the house opens and he marches out, already in his wetsuit. He walks past me and grabs his board off the opposite wall.“Let’s get this over with,” he barks, heading for the driveway.
My tears dry as I scramble to get my board too, fighting a smile. “Don’t you want to wax it first?”
“I doubt we’ll be out there long enough for it to matter,” he replies without stopping.
Dickish of him. I decide to let it go.
He crosses the street and heads down the stairs as if he’s going into battle—I’m not sure why he’s acting like this is such a chore unless Audrey actuallydidmanage to change him into some trust-fund douche who’d rather spend a Saturday morning having brunch at the country club than surfing.
His shoulders hunch when he reaches the water, his jaw locked and his brow furrowed. He takes in the rocks, the cliff, the dark and dangerous waves, the eddies swirling nearby, and when he glances back at me, I know exactly what he’s going to do. He’s scared—not for himself, but for me, and I refuse to be the reason he doesn’t get in this morning.
“Daisy,” he begins, “I think this is a bad—”
I jump.
“If you want to puss out, be my guest,” I call, floating on my back while I tie the leash around my ankle. “But I’ve waited since Wednesday, and I’m not waiting another minute.”
I pretend that I don’t hear him cursing behind me and start to paddle. He catches me easily—of course he does with those delightful shoulders of his—and mumbles something about me being a brat, which I choose not to respond to.
“Donotgo over in front of the cliff,” he snarls.
I glare over my shoulder. “I’ve managed to keep myself alive for the past five years without any adult guidance, so I’m not sure why you think I need you to leap in now.”
“Yes, you’ve proven to be a model of responsible behavior with the way you’re forcing yourself on me.”
“Oh, Harrison,” I say silkily, “I haven’t evenbegunto force myself on you. Believe me, you’ll know when I do.”
He sighs. “You’re too young to make every word out of your mouth sound so dirty.”
I straddle my board, waiting for the next set to come in. “You realize I’ve had sex, right? I’ve had a lot of sex, actually.”
“More than I needed to know,” he mutters.
