Page 18 of Ride By Your Side

Playing volleyball with a bunch of horny, immature college kids is the last way I want to spend my afternoon, but I’m not about to let any of these men take advantage of Veronica in any way.

“Oh my God, I suck at this,” Veronica whines after trying to serve the ball over the net but failing as it falls toward the sand, not making it even halfway to the net.

My first instinct is to tell her it’s her fault for wanting to play in the first place, but as I watch the kid from earlier, the taller one who I’ve since learned is named Jace, and who can’t seem to stop flirting with her inch toward her, I beat him to the punch.

“Here, I’ll show you,” I volunteer as I move to stand next to her. “Hold the ball like this in your left hand, and move your right hand back like this.” I demonstrate, and while she attempts to mimic what I just showed her, her stance is completely off. “No, like this,” I explain, moving behind her as I take hold of her arm and move it into position before I adjusting her other arm as well. “And pull your leg back to get some more momentum behind your serve,” I continue, tapping her leg before taking hold of her left hand one final time as I wrap my hand around it to turn it into a fist.

It isn’t until I look down at her face to check for understanding that I realize how touchy I’ve gotten. Her warm, chestnut eyes lock onto mine, wide with attention, as her lips part just enough to tease a playful smile, drawing my annoyingly hungry gaze along their delicate curve.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m not supposed to be looking at Veronica Prescott’s lips. Worse, I’m not supposed to know or think about how soft her skin feels against mine.

I let out something resembling a cough as I clear my throat and step back. “You got it?”

She wordlessly nods before turning to look toward the net. Letting out a visible breath, she follows my instructions, stepping forward and hitting the ball, which then sails perfectly over the net.

“I did it!” she shrieks as she jumps up and down, and while I’d just inwardly cringed not too long ago at that Benson guy offering Vee a high five, I find myself doing the same. Instead of high-fiving me back, though, she leaps toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck, utterly oblivious to the fact that there’s still a game going on. Thankfully the college frat boys seem to keep the ball going back and forth over the net.

“You did. That was amazing, Vee,” I congratulate as I peel myself out from underneath her. I’ve never seen myself as someone that wanted to hug Veronica, but given the way my body is reacting to her touch, I know I can’t let it happen—at least not until I get myself and my mind under control.

Luckily, I’m saved when the ball lands on the sand on the other side of the net, scoring a point for our team. Cheers erupt as they celebrate, and I should be celebrating with them, but my heart sinks as Jace scoops Veronica into his arms, her laughter echoing through the air as he twirls her around.

“Look at you, Ronnie. From barely being able to get it over the net to scoring us a point.” He chuckles, and this time I do rollmy eyes. Sure, she served the ball and got it over the net, but it wasn’t like she was the one fully responsible for the actual point. I don’t say that, though. She looks genuinely happy, and after the rough couple of days she’s had, I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep that smile on her face, even if it means another man gets to put his hands all over her.

Reaching for the shirt I discarded before my run, I try to ignore Veronica’s laughter as she waves goodbye to the guys.

"Looks like you had fun," I comment, my voice tighter than intended. I shouldn’t care that she spent the rest of the game flirting with Jace. She’s newly single and has every right to do whatever—orwhoever—she wants. But knowing that didn’t stop the sharp twist in my gut that came every time I saw her lean in close to him, laughing at whatever dumb joke he made. Even now, the memory causes my hands to involuntarily curl into fists at my sides.

“Yeah, I did,” she agrees as she reaches down to retrieve her towel and stuffs it into her beach bag. “I don’t even have to ask about you though, you looked like you were in pain the entire time.” She giggles, nudging her shoulder into mine as we start the trek back toward the car.

“Did I have fun? No, but come on, I didn’t look that bad.”

A small, dismissive sound escapes her lips. “Are you kidding me? You looked absolutely miserable. It was also pretty obvious that you couldn’t stand any of the guys. I actually thought you were going to take a swing at Jace when he asked for my number.”

“Can you blame me? The only thing going on in that small neanderthal brain of his is beer, boobs, and sex.”

I decide to leave out the part where today, my brain may have been having some of those same exact thoughts.

She glances up, tilting her head to the side. “You really think that’s all he thinks about?”

“I was young like them once. I know exactly what’s going on in their minds, especially when they all kept looking at you like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.”

She rolls her eyes. “Young? They were twenty. They were men. Good-looking men at that, and who cares? It’s not like I actually gave him my number.”

I hold my hands up. “Hey, you’re free to do whatever you want. If you want to give him your number, then you’re free to do it. However you choose to move on is fine with me.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they aren’t true. I do care, and I’m feeling oddly relieved to know that she didn’t actually give out her number.

“Whatever you say, Broody Bennett.” Veronica smiles, her eyes twinkling as she seems to see right through me as she leans against the side of my car, waiting for me to unlock it. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s not buying what I’m selling.

11

Veronica

I’minheaven—oratleast my version of it—now that I’m back in my happy place. Yesterday’s beach day was fun, and I won’t lie, it was a little ego-boosting having those frat boys blatantly flirt with me. The crazy thing is, my favorite part wasn’t their cheesy pickup lines or how they tried to flex like they were auditioning for aBaywatchremake. Nope. The real fun came when Miles and I went back to the beach later that afternoon. Turns out, hanging out with Broody Bennett of all people is way more satisfying than being hit on. Who knew? Definitely not me.

There was something downright magical about convincing him to ditch his serious side and dive into the waves with me. We spent the entire afternoon splashing around like kids, body surfing and laughing so hard my cheeks hurt. But honestly, the real bliss came later when we stretched out on the sand, soaking in the last rays of the sun while I sketched away. Lying out turned into lazy chatter as he opened up more than I’d ever heard before as we watched the sunset side by side.

However, nothing compares to the magic that is Disneyland. Sure, there may be lots of loud voices, the occasional cry of a young kid, or the sound of a parent who’s finally lost it as they yell at their children, but all I can focus on is the cheerful Disney music, the swooshing and whirring of rides, and the mouthwatering smell of candy, ice cream, and churros.

“Are you kidding me? They seriously expect us to pay almost six dollars for a fu—” I lift a hand to cover his mouth, but he thankfully stops himself before he can use the word that would have a thousand angry parents glancing in our direction. “Churro,” he corrects himself instead. “What are they making it with? Golden cinnamon dust?”

---