Page 41 of Beach B!tch
15
Brinley
The next few days passed in a blur of teaching classes, rehab, and navigating people staying in my tiny apartment with me. Shasta stayed the most often as Dean was busy at work late most nights and she had no one waiting for her at home. I think Esa would have stayed over, but let's be real. She had a hottie lifeguard waiting in her bed. I wouldn't stay with me either.
Shasta imparted her wisdom day and night, which I appreciated. She had a history of abuse and had not only overcome it, but excelled in life. She had always been a role model for me, but living with her for a few days allowed her to get inside my head. She peppered me with her phrases and sayings, giving me lots to think about and mull over. I was beginning to wonder if that was my voice or hers inside my head when I planned what to say to my father when, or if, he made an appearance.
It was late Thursday evening when Dean knocked on my door, big duffel bag in hand. Shasta slipped out the door with a sly smile on her face and a pat on the back for Dean as she passed him. My new babysitter had arrived, and based on his duffel size (and no, that wasn't a sexual reference), he'd be staying awhile.
He closed the door behind him, locking out the world and all the troubles that came with it. His bag dropped to the floor, and he locked me in his sights. I've been on the receiving end of a lot of intimidation stare downs, but never one like this with so much hunger and heat. Slow steps brought him right in front of me, his hard chest pressed up against mine. So close I could see the shades of brown in his eyes and trace the features of his face. He had white lines fanning out from the sides of his eyes from squinting on the beach all day. Perhaps on a woman, they'd detract from her beauty, but on him, they reminded me of my favorite place and brought a smile to my face.
"You gonna stare at me all night or make me dinner, woman?" Dean growled at me.
My eyes refocused in a hurry. After three days of barely seeing each other, that's what he opened with?
Before my temper could break loose and tell him off, he dropped the tough-guy persona and doubled-over laughing. "You should see your face right now!"
I pushed him back a step. "You're a jerk, you know that, right?"
"So does that mean no dinner?"
"You little--"
Dean grabbed me up in a big hug, laughing his ass off, placating me with wet kisses on my face and neck.
"I'm kidding, sweetheart. I texted Shasta earlier, and she said you two already ate, so I grabbed food on the way home. Wanna join me on the couch and fill me in on your day?" He paused while we started moving toward the living room. Then he continued with a raised eyebrow, "Maybe let me feel you up a bit?"
I tried to pull away from him, my mouth open in shock. "Oh my God, really? You come home demanding food and sex? Really? You got the wrong girl, lifeguard." I shook my head at him, despite secretly not finding fault with either option. Well, not demanding. Asking would be okay though, right?
Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me down onto his lap as he sank into the couch. He nuzzled my neck, causing shivers to run up my back and arms. All playfulness gone from his tone, he whispered in my ear, "No, I'm positive I have the right girl."
There was that warm feeling again, winding its way through my chest.
If that whispered profession didn't melt away any pretend indignation, I didn't know what would. I wrapped my arms around his neck, a smile impossible to hide on my face. How could this man make me relax into him and get revved up with nerves all at the same time? I breathed him in for a moment, then moved off his lap and sat next to him on the couch to have my serious discussion.
"Will you do something for me?" I whispered before I lost the nerve.
One of the things I had been discussing with Shasta was being willing to open myself to someone. Not just on a friend level like I'd been doing with my Beach Squad, but on a deep, soul level. Total and complete trust and openness with another human being. The idea scared the shit out of me, but it also intrigued me. The idea of baring myself to Dean kept pulling at me, like on some subconscious level I knew it was the right thing to do, even while it stole my breath away and made me nauseous with fear. So I did what I tended to do when stressed: I made a plan.
"I'd do anything with you, Brin. Just tell me what and count me in." Dean was making this easy for me, and for that, I was grateful.
I swallowed and took a deep breath. "I'd like to make a list. A list of things I'd like to do with you. Things I've been afraid of or avoiding. Things I'd like to experience. Stefan asked me before what things I like to do and I came up empty. I'd like to remedy that." I waited, my stomach in my throat, for his answer.
Dean's eyes held mine for a few beats, then a slow smile took over his face. "I would be honored to do these things with you. I promise to help in any way you need me to." Then he wrapped his pinky around mine, sealing the deal.
I didn't believe there was a perfect man out there, but Dean had to be damn close. I only knew what type of man was on the opposite end of the spectrum of all that was good and kind, but I had to imagine that I could search my whole life and not find someone as perfect for me as Dean.
He grabbed my hips, moved me over so I was pressed up next to him, and clapped his hands together. "Okay, so you got paper? Let's make that list!"
I ran to my room, found some paper in my printer, and ran back with a black pen from the kitchen counter. With the fresh, blank sheet of paper staring at me from the coffee table, I thought about the possibilities. It didn't escape my mind that the blank sheet was quite symbolic of my life. I was ready to start over with a clean slate. No longer was I going to allow my childhood abuse to dictate how I lived my life now. It was my life; I got to choose what I wanted.
Dean was looking at me with pride and excitement. Hopefully he'd still be looking at me like that after the list was written. There would be a few things on there that would need some explaining.
"All right, so after I got over my initial stiffness, I really liked going dancing the other night. I was thinking of some similar activities that would be new and exciting to try." I wrote a number one on the paper and circled it, then wrote down my first list item in a rush, before I could take it back. "Stand-up paddle boarding in the ocean."
I turned to Dean and bobbed up and down on the couch in my form of a seated happy dance. This was liberating.
Dean laughed. "I love it! We've got boards you can use and hey, you'll be completely safe having a lifeguard there with you, right?"
