Page 7 of Beach B!tch
She rushed to grab a water bottle out of the ice bucket by the fridge while I went over to grab another cup for a beer refill. I glanced up as the cup filled to find her watching me, her arms crossed over her stomach and a weary expression on her face. It was unclear why she didn't like me, so I scrambled to come up with something could talk to her about. I was crashing and burning, hard.
"So, Brinley, tell me what you do for a living," I asked as I straightened up and walked back over to her.
She dropped her arms and threw her shoulders back like she was preparing for verbal warfare. I had no idea what she'd do if I asked her anything personal.
"I'm a volleyball player and a self-defense instructor," she answered, keeping her eyes on a point over my shoulder.
Could she not even give me some goddamn eye contact? "Ah. So that's how you took that guy down the other day on the beach. That was impressive." I took a sip of beer, then placed one hand on the counter behind her, pinning her between me and the cabinet. That ought to get her attention.
At the first brush of my body, her eyes jumped up to mine as a flush took over her cheeks. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her eyes wide with what looked like fear.
"I'm trying to get to know you better, Brinley. I don't like you looking scared of me though. I won't hurt you." I dropped my voice and pinned her with my concerned stare, not touching her in any way. I wasn't sure why she would be scared of me and I definitely didn't like it. I would never hurt her and I needed her to know that.
Her eyes hardened again, and she tossed her hair back, looking like she was getting ready to fight. "Oh, I know you won't hurt me. I would never allow that to happen. What I want to know is why you think you can get up in my space?"
Jesus, why did her feistiness have to turn me on so much? Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were flashing, and her breathing kicked up a notch as she challenged me. Now that I liked, not the scared girl I saw a moment before.
I took my hand off the counter, leaned in even closer, and cupped her face with my hand. I dipped my head and locked eyes with her. "I'm in your space because I like you, Brinley. And I want to know everything about you. Does that answer your question?" I whispered to her just inches from those gorgeous lips, making sure she heard every word.
Her lips parted but no words came out. Her face got even redder. But what got my attention was the way her eyes dilated and her body leaned into me for a brief moment before she caught herself and straightened back up, stepping sideways away from me.
"Thanks, but no thanks," she said before turning and racing out of the kitchen.
I watched her go, shaking my head at my stupidity. I drained the rest of my beer and wondered if I even had a next move with her. There were more mysteries about Brinley than hard facts, but just that brief second where she seemed like she wanted me made me hopeful. She was under my skin and her rejection only made me want to figure her out even more.
Then it hit me. She said she was friends with Esa. What better way to figure her out than to talk to her friend and get the full story? She could steer me in the right direction or at least give me advice on the right angle to take with Brinley. Hope renewed and action plan in place, I refilled my beer and took off to find Esa.
Brinley
The party was everything I was hoping it wouldn't be: people everywhere, food and beer on every surface, loud music, and my two friends nowhere in sight. I made it through the crowd and ducked into the bathroom to catch my breath and give myself a pep talk. I leaned over the sink and looked myself in the eye. Just find Esa to congratulate her, make small talk, and then make my exit. That's all I had to do.
I jumped when the doorknob rattled as someone tried to get in the bathroom I occupied. After a deep breath, I nodded to my mirror image and slipped out the door. I was halfway down the hall when I felt a hand pulling me to a stop. The voice calling my name was recognizable even though I'd only talked to him that one time. My brain spazzed out when I spun around and confirmed my suspicions.
Dean was here.
I had not planned on that happening. No matter. Just breathe. I'd do the small talk thing and still stick to my plan. No need to get all melty looking into his dark brown eyes or notice how hot he looked in his polo shirt and dark jeans. Or shiver over the rough calluses on his strong hands.
I pulled my hand back, straightened my spine, and answered his questions, removing myself from the situation as quick as possible. Before I could escape and find Esa, he'd caught up and hovered by my side, matching strides. I tracked him out of the corner of my eye, hoping he'd peel off and go talk to someone else, but no such luck. We made it to the kitchen, and I braced for more awkward conversation with the hottest, most annoying guy at the party.
I had such conflicted feelings about this guy; I felt like a mental case. I was attracted to him, I liked his warm eyes focused on me, I didn't like his comment to me on the beach, and my hands were shaking anticipating saying weird things and having him realize how socially awkward I really was. I wanted him to touch me. And I wanted him to go away.
"So Brinley, tell me what you do for a living," he asked me while filling up his cup with beer. I got distracted for a moment while I took in his delicious backside, bent over the keg. Then I registered what he was doing and took a step back from him, my guard up. Anytime alcohol was involved, I didn't take chances. He didn't appear inebriated, but I didn't know him well enough to say for sure.
I answered him without making eye contact and watched him closely as he sauntered over. He boxed me into the counter and I felt the old fear rip up my spine. The alcohol was the first red flag. Getting cornered was the second red flag. I reminded myself that I wasn't a helpless little girl anymore and I could take care of myself now. Instinct told me he spoke the truth: he wouldn't hurt me. At least not physically. Then the brush of his body against mine set my skin on fire and I remembered how I'd thought of him in the shower the other day. My face blushed bright red as I shook my head to clear that image.
"I'm in your space because I like you, Brinley. And I want to know everything about you. Does that answer your question?" he said in a low, intimate tone, his brown eyes boring into mine. His thumb brushed across my cheek as I scrambled to process what was happening here.
Know everything about me? He liked me??
Sensory overload. My brain stuttered to a stop like a volleyball to the face. Time to shut this down before it went too far. It had already gone too far according to the lurch in my sad, lonely heart.
"Thanks, but no thanks." I turned around and left the room, wondering why it felt like the butterflies I had in my stomach were now crushed under a ton of bricks, weighing me down.
I rushed to the backyard, the only place in the house I hadn't looked for Esa yet. I found her by the fire pit, her arm around Ivan's waist as they chatted with some friends. I stepped to the side of a planter and took a private moment to catch my breath and lose the red face. My plan was to say congratulations without them sensing I was rattled, which would only incite questions I wasn't willing to answer.
Then make my escape.
Without seeing Dean again.
I kept watching Esa while I breathed the cool, evening air all by myself in the shadows. She looked insanely happy standing there with her boyfriend, laughing with her friends without a care in the world. Ivan leaned down and nuzzled the top of her head. She tipped her face up and kissed him, both of them smiling and whispering to each other. They were in love. The circle of friends heckled them about being too lovey-dovey. Esa and Ivan didn't stop hugging each other, they just laughed with their friends and took the teasing in stride.
It looked like a Hallmark commercial, extolling the warmth of a life well lived, with loved ones surrounding you, the fire casting a flickering, orange glow reminiscent of childhood campfires with s'mores and friends. It was beautiful. My throat tightened and my legs felt like dead weight I was having to drag around with me. I felt like someone drained my life force and put it into that scene in front of me, leaving me a cold, flat shell of a person.
I was getting sick. Coming down with something. That's the only thing it could have been. Alarm flooded my system at the idea of that happening now when my final games were so close. I needed to get out of there and get home where I could take my supplements and go to sleep. I had to keep focused on what was important. And it wasn't sitting here like a Peeping Tom watching Esa canoodle with her boyfriend.
So, with a new determination driving my movements, I marched over to Esa, gave her a hug, congratulated her and Ivan, and engaged in the dreaded small talk for a few moments. If the volleyball thing didn't work out, I should consider acting. When I'd done my time, and no one had caught on to my distress, I made my excuses and worked my way back into the house, headed right for the front door, already tasting my freedom.
