Page 33 of Britta & the Beach Boy
I should have known things wouldn’t go as planned if I left. Trailing my fears about a casual relationship with Dex, Adam’s message feels like a sign.
I don’t miss Paradise, but I have a sudden longing to be with everyone there. I should take care ofBritta’s—no matter who it belongs to now—because it was Mom’s. I should carry on her legacy. I should take care of my dad and help my brother Bear and Cassie plan their wedding, taking Mom’s place as the core of our family.
I want to call Adam right now. Ineedto call him. But not here.
Whatever hard decisions need to be made can’t be made at the beach, after Dex’s win. Not with people filing past me, brimming with a happy energy that comes from being part of something incredible, even just as a spectator.
“Britta!”
I turn at Stella’s voice. Archie and Dex are with her, all walking my way with huge smiles, pulsing with an excitement I can feel from ten feet away. An excitement I chose not to share a few minutes ago, but now I can’t even fake.
“We’re celebrating tonight!” Stella says, and I force a smile as the three of them approach. “Rip Tide is throwing a huge party, and we’re invited.”
I face Dex but keep an arm’s-length distance between us. I dodge his hug when he puts his arms up. “That was amazing! Congratulations! I knew you could do it.”
I want to say more about how incredible he was to watch. How I held my breath after an aerial when he was so far in the whitewash, seconds passed before we knew whether he’d landedit. When he came out of the wave, standing upright, my heart rose to my throat, and I wanted to throw my arms around him.
“You’re going to come tonight, right?” Dex asks, his face bright and shiny. “You’re welcome to stay another night at the house. That’s where the party will be. The execs are ordering in all kinds of food and getting a DJ.”
“There will be famous people there.Stars,Britta,” Stella says with actual stars in her eyes.
Which makes what I have to say even harder. If I stay there another night, I risk Dex expecting more than I have in me to give right now. Or, worse, expecting only a one-night stand. And, yes, we’re both grown-ups capable of being honest with one another, but I can’t add an awkward conversation with Dex about expectations to my already full plate.
“I’m sorry, Dex. I don’t think we can.” I feel more than see Stella’s disappointed expression, but I can’t avoid it on Dex’s face. It goes deeper than not having me in his bed tonight, and for a fleeting second, I wonder if I’ve lost more than a chance to party with celebrities.
“What? Why?” Stella asks.
With a deep breath, I turn to her, away from the confusion that’s replaced the disappointment on Dex’s face. “There are big problems withBritta’sto figure out. My laptop is back at the apartment, and I need to look at finances. And I already told Annie I’d come in tomorrow. I don’t want to cancel on her again.” I throw out every reason I can find. They’re all legitimate, but somehow that’s less reassuring than it should be that I’ve made the right choice leaving.
“Maybe I’ll see you when you get back?” I keep my voice neutral, no sign of expectations.
“I hope so,” Dex says with a wishful optimism that nearly undoes my resolve to leave.
Chapter thirteen
Dex
The ride back to the house is quieter than it should be after I’ve just been named the world’s best surfer. We should all be celebrating. I should be overjoyed every time I see my distorted reflection in the silver trophy that takes up my entire lap. It’s so big, I can barely see Britta in the captain’s chair next to me.
This win is what I’ve wanted more than anything since I started surfing—at least, before surfing was added as an Olympic sport—and I shouldn’t care that the trophy is digging into my legs, or that I won’t get to see Britta in her green dress tonight.
As happy as I am, the disappointment that’s she’s not staying to celebrate with me weighs even more than this award.
“Thanks for coming,” I say as we turn down the street to the house.
“Thanks for inviting us. The whole day was amazing.” She smiles, but there’s a tentativeness she didn’t have before.
“I hope everything is okay withBritta’s.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” she says in a voice too high and too certain, but then there’s a bit of a loosening in her posture. “I hope it’s nothing that will cut my trip short.”
“What?” Stella turns in her seat to face Britta. “You’re thinking about leaving?”
My lungs refuse to take in air while I wait for Britta to answer.
“I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Things are falling apart there without me.” She stiffens again, like she’s preparing to dig in her heels if Stella tells her to change her mind. “But you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. You should stay until Georgia needs you. Finish your vacation.”
“Youshould stay and finish your vacation until your family actually needs you,” Stella shoots back and faces the road again.
