Page 5 of Britta & the Beach Boy
Britta
The first morning of my extended vacation in LA, I wake to a hazy dawn instead of the buzzing of an alarm. It’s not a terrible start to the day, even if I have to force myself to stay in bed and enjoy the quiet. I think that’s what you’re supposed to do on a vacation—enjoy relaxing. This is all new to me.
I make it five minutes before I’m so bored watching the ceiling fan turn in slow circles that I have to get up. Old habits die hard. I’ve spent too many years getting up before dawn, to make coffee and ebelskiver, to sleep in.
The first thing I do is text Dad to check on him, then my brother, Adam, to check onBritta’s.I get a long response fromDad about how he’s doing great—I don’t believe it—and that he misses me. Adam's reply is short.
demo starts today.
Taking a deep breath, I repeat the mantra I’ve said no less than a thousand times since driving out of Paradise.Everything will be fine without you.
I wait a few seconds to see if I believe myself this time.
I don’t, but I’m getting closer…maybe.
Then I pad into the hallway, stopping long enough outside a second bedroom door to confirm Stella—my cousin, bestie, and assigned vacation-enforcer—is still asleep. When Georgia talked me into taking over the last six weeks of her and Cassie’s lease whileBritta’sundergoes some much-need renovations, she insisted Stella come with me for part of the time.
She’ll need her back in Paradise onceAt Home with Georgia Rosestarts filming again; Stella keeps all of Georgia’s social media accounts updated with fresh content during the show’s season. Until the season starts in a couple weeks, though, Stella’s unofficial assignment is to make sure I’m okay.
My dad and brothers weren’t crazy about the idea of me coming here at all, let alone by myself. I wasn’t privy to the backdoor bargaining, but my guess is that Georgia offered to let Stella come with me to ease their worries before proposing her LA idea to me.
At first, coming to LA appealed to me, but the idea of Stella coming too didn’t—as much as I love her. I thought I wanted time to myself. But if I’m already going stir-crazy in the first five minutes of my suddenly too-quiet vacation, my family probably wasn’t wrong about sending her to keep things lively. I’ve got maybe an hour before she wakes up and puts my scheduled, unscheduled time into motion. Until then, I’m going to enjoysitting on the small patio watching the morning move from gray to gold with the sound of lapping waves in the distance.
I just wish I had a good cup of coffee to go with it, and if Stella would wake up, I could make one. I didn’t pack a lot, but I made sure to bring my espresso machine and some of my favorite gourmet roasts. Taking a break from work doesn’t mean I’m taking a break from coffee. But setting up my essential coffee maker will take a minute and, more than likely, wake Stella. No one needs to poke that Bear. I’ll let her come out of hibernation on her own.
An hour later, when someone knocks at the front door, I haven’t changed out of my pajama pants and T-shirt—no bra—and it’s not even eight am. Stella is still in bed. I still need coffee, and I really don’t want to open the door to a stranger when I’m not dressed. Or even when I am. I’ve met one person in LA—barely—and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that all Dad’s warnings about “big cities,” aren’t running through my head as I open the Ring app he insisted I set up.
I look at the live feed of the doorbell camera. Two men are at the door, both in board shorts, one in a tank, the other shirtless. The taller one swipes at the air around him, looking annoyed while the one with shaggy hair—Mom would have called him unkempt—is barefoot. I don’t recognize the tall guy, but the unkempt one is the single person I know here. And his hair actually looks shorter than it did the last time I saw him, which would make Dad happy. He’s suspicious of any man with hair past his ears—my brother, Adam, being the one exception to that rule.
Aside from the shorter hair, Dex looks the way I remember from the beginning of June, when he showed up in Paradise, perpetually shirtless and smiling. Which makes me happy.
I’ve missed admiring his well-formed pecs, the curve of his biceps, and the way his waist tapers into his low-cut boardshorts. He’s not big and muscular like my hockey-playing brothers, and I like that. There’s a lean, natural athleticism to his shape that I could admire all day. In fact, I took theno shoes, no shirt, no servicesign out of the window atBritta’safter the first time Dex came in, just so I could admire his bare chest for at least part of the day.
The thing I’m most interested in at the moment, though, is the takeout coffee cups he’s holding.
I do a nip check, then grab a hoodie to throw on, even though it’s already over seventy degrees in this apartment. I’m surprised how many women in LA don’t wear bras. Or much of anything, really. No judgement on them, because bras are the worst, but I’m not there yet seeing as how I’ve been a California girl for exactly fourteen hours.
And Dad might die of a heart attack if I ever do get to the point where I stop wearing a bra and let my bum hang out of my shorty short shorts. My brothers would have opinions about that too.
I don’t care what they think about LA or the people in it. I feel lighter being somewhere besides Paradise than I have in months—years, really.
Some of that may have to do with the man on the other side of my door who rings the bell a second time. Georgia gave me Dex’s number, but I haven’t reached out. Haven’t known exactly what to say, but I guess that’s irrelevant now.
I throw open the door. “Hi, Dex. You’re up early.”
I say this as though we’re old friends, and I was expecting him. Is that the wrong approach? I’m not sure what the right approach is.
Dex steps inside, warming me with his amber-flecked eyes ringed with gold. “Ah, I’m always up early.” The letters inearlyblend, the hard r disappearing almost entirely, so the wordroll over me as gentle as a breeze before he hands me a coffee. “Thought you might need this. Welcome to South Bay.”
My smile disappears when I see the brand on the coffee cup. Honestly, I’m as surprised to see Dex as I am to see the logo of the company known for speed, not quality.
I take the coffee from him, and he leans close. Before I know it, he’s kissed my cheek, sending a rush of heat across my entire face and reminding me of our last kiss.
Dex’s friend follows him inside and tsks. “You’ve embarrassed her.”
He has the same accent as Dex and waves his hand toward my red face, which only makes me blush more.
“Britta and I are old friends,” Dex says, then hands me the other coffee. “This one’s for Stella. She came too, yeah? Georgia messaged me, saying I should keep an eye on the two of you.”
