Page 48 of Britta & the Beach Boy
As hard as it is to admit, other people can handleBritta’sright now. It’s hard to imagine my life withoutBritta’s,so if I decide that’s part of who I want to be, I’ll be managing the restaurant for as long as I can. This may be my one real vacation for a very long time.
The most important thing I learned taking care of Mom is that life is short. Why not squeeze the most out of it?
I take a deep, staggered breath, then reach for my phone.
Fine. I’ll stay.
Seconds later Stella whoops and another few seconds after that, my phone pings.
Stella has sent me a gif of a baby doing a celebratory dance.
I laugh, then examine the green dress for wrinkles. I’m going to need it tomorrow.
Chapter eighteen
Dex
For the first time in years, I take a true day off where I have no actual plans—other than throwing some shrimp on the barbie—schedule, or diet restrictions. I sleep in, eat donuts for breakfast, and veg. The only thing I don’t skip in my daily routine is some light yoga and meditation, because today is about relaxing and doing whatever I want.
And watching the AFL Grand Final is what I want to do more than anything else. Even though watching the match will be more full-on than relaxing. It’s basically the Australian Super Bowl, except Aussies don’t wear pads when we knock each other around. We man up and get hurt, even the girls.
Not me, obviously. The only sport worth getting injured for is surfing. But I love watching the AFL. Archie does too. The match is scheduled for two-thirty in Melbourne on Saturday, which makes it nine-thirty on Friday night in LA.
Archie and I have been planning a barbie for weeks. We’ve got it heated and ready to go as soon as Rhys shows up. The match falls on a week when he’s got a break from touring.
That’s who I’m expecting a couple hours before match time when someone knocks on our door. So when I open it and see Britta, blonde hair swept up with a few tendrils framing her face, wearing the green dress I picked out for her, I nearly drop my second donut of the day.
“Hi.” The word stumbles out of my mouth, tripping over its one syllable.
“Hi.” Britta smiles, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes on her mouth and not the thin straps on her shoulders or the deep V of fabric leading to her…
I force my eyes back to hers. “I thought you were leaving.”
She shakes her head. “I had a promise to keep. Can I take you to dinner?”
Now my eyes drop to my bare chest—I catch Britta’s gaze following mine. The only thing I’m wearing is board shorts. I haven’t showered. I haven’t combed my hair. I have plans with two of my best mates, including one I haven’t seen in ages.
But when I look back at Britta in that dress, I can’t say no. I motion her inside. “Give me ten minutes to put on something more…better. Clothes, I mean, so I don’t look like a dag next to you.”
“I don’t know what that is, but don’t go to a lot of trouble. We can go somewhere casual.” Britta follows me into the sitting room, where Archie’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees her.
“Britta’s taking me to dinner,” I tell him.
He keeps staring at Britta, so I raise my voice. “Archie!” His head swings to me, but his eyes are glazed over. That’s how good Britta looks.
More than good.
Absolutely gorge.
She’s always been a stunner, but that dress on her looks better than I imagined.
“Can you get Britta a drink or something while I get cleaned up?” I ask him, and he finally comes out of his daze.
“You’re not staying for the match? Rhys is coming over.”
Britta is about to sit down but stops with Archie’s idiotic question. I send him a fiery glare at the same time she says, “You’ve got plans? Of course you do. It’s a Friday night. We can go another time.”
She moves so quick for the door, and I get so distracted by the low, strappy back of her dress that I almost can’t stop her in time. But I come to and dash in front of the door as she reaches for the knob.
