Page 12 of Bayside Heat
“Sorry. Lifelong failing.” Rick took a drink of his beer.
“You’ve got that right,” Dean said. “Did I tell you Em wants to get certified as a SUP yoga instructor?”
“What’s SUP yoga?” Drake asked. “Do they talk smack while posing?”
Rick chuckled.
“Stand-up paddleboard,” Dean explained. “She thinks it will be the next big thing out here. She’ll probably try to get the girls to be her guinea pigs the next time we go out on the water. Do you think Serena will come back to go boating with us? If not, we have to find you another fake girlfriend or you’ll be the odd man out.”
“Shit,” Drake mumbled. “Now who’s the asshole? Serena’s not my fake girlfriend.”
They did everything as a group, and Serena had always been his other half. They’d shared Jet Skis and kayaks, doubled on surfboards, and teamed up in doubles events during bonfires. He didn’t even want to think about doing those things with someone else.
“Does that mean you’re finally going to tell her how you feel about her?” Rick asked.
Drake shook his head and took another swig of his drink. “Nothing to tell.”
“Mm-hm. That’s why the back of your truck is full of boxes,” Dean pointed out.
“She mentioned needing boxes. Big deal.”
Rick set his beer bottle in the sand and leveled a concerned gaze on Drake. “Come on, bro. Are you seriously going to try to play this off like we’re idiots? We live here. We work here. We’ve seen how close you two have gotten.”
Drake gripped the bottle tighter.
“You’re just going to let her walk away like she means nothing to you?” Rick challenged.
Drake pushed to his feet. “Let her walk away? That’s not what this is, and you know it. This is her dream. Who the hell am I to stand in her way? What the fuck do you want me to do? You were both there when she was growing up. You know what her life was like, how hard she worked to fit in with everyone else because her mother was too fucking busy to take care of her and Chloe. You think I want to be an hour and a half away from her?” He paced.
“Then what do you want?” Dean asked so casually it pissed Drake off even more.
He stopped pacing. “Not to be given shit by you two. She’s not walking out of my life. She’s walking into the start of hers. Do you even realize how lucky we were that she helped us get this place off the ground?”
“Yeah, we do.” Rick rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, you’ve wasted four years being too chickenshit to tell her how you feel.”
Drake grabbed him by his shirt with both hands. Through clenched teeth, he seethed. “I’m not chickenshit, you asshole. I’m man enough to not fuck with her head.”
“You want to hit me? Get your aggression out? Go ahead,” Rick challenged. “But it won’t help.”
Drake shoved him away as his fingers curled into fists. “I don’t want to hit you. Don’t you get it? She was always temporary. We knew she was heading out of here at some point, and if she were mine, it would fuck up her plans.”
“Dude.” Dean put a hand on Drake’s shoulder, and Drake shrugged him off. “Whoa, Drake. We’re on your side. We didn’t know you’d thought it through. But even so, how can you be so sure she can’t have both?”
“Because I know Serena. I was there when she broke her arm on the skateboard when she was eight, and I was there that night when she got back on the skateboard, determined to prove to everyone that she couldn’t be dissuaded from making the jump she’d spent all day practicing. I was there when she was fourteen, watching over her as she walked home alone after work at the diner—where she was paid under the table so she could save up for college—because she refused to rely on anyone else to drive her or walk with her to and from work. She’s stubborn, and she’s driven. Do you really think she’d even consider going to Boston if she and I had been together the past four years? The last thing she needs is to choose between her heart and her dreams. I have never—and I will not ever—do that to her. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention this again.”
