Page 8 of Side Hustle
Her voice held her normal overexuberance, but it also held concern. For me. And that lit up something else in my chest. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. But I have more info on the, uh, arrowhead.”
“Huh?” She paused and I wanted to throttle her through the phone. This whole subterfuge was her idea in the first place. “Oh! Wait! Yes, the arrowhead. Okay. Awesome.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Barely.
“I’m driving to the marina right now. Can you meet me there? We can head out to sea for a bit and chat there where no bionic ears will hear us.”
“Ooh! A cruise? Heck yes! In fact, I’ll bring the turmeric carob cookies I just made and a jug of sangria. We’ll make it a booze cruise!”
I pictured her face, probably split in a huge grin, bobbing up and down as she bounced with excitement. My stomach revolted at the sound of those cookies, though. Hazel’s baking, even something normal like chocolate chip cookies, was less than appealing.
“I’m, uh, watching my sugar intake. Maybe just bring some water?” The sign for the marina was just up ahead. I made the turn and felt my muscles relaxing at the sight of the ocean.
Hazel snorted loudly into the phone and I felt chastised instantly.
“Water? Are you kidding me right now? Boring, Bennett.”
Whoever said words couldn’t hurt was dead wrong. “You don’t have to call me names,” I grumbled, climbing out of my truck.
“Huh? I didn’t call you a name, I just said your water idea was boring. So I’ll bring the cookies and the sangria. See you in fifteen.”
She hung up and I held my phone out in front of my face as if it would explain the mysteries of Hazel Redding. I guessed I jumped to conclusions about her calling me names. It’s just I’d been teased a lot in high school about behaving like an old man. Told my name Rip was the most exciting thing about me. Boring Bennett had been uttered under someone’s breath on more than one occasion. It was only natural to be a little sensitive.
It’s not that I didn’t want to have a good time with Hazel. If I was being honest with myself, I desperately wanted to spend time with her. At least, the way we used to be before junior year of high school and all that happened back then. It’s just the idea of adding alcohol to the mix when it would just be her and me, alone…well, it scared me. I could deny my attraction to her when I was dead sober.
I wasn’t so sure if I had liquid courage flowing through my veins.
4
Hazel
The plate of cookies wobbled dangerously on top of the canister of sangria, but alas, I only had two hands, so I’d have to chance it in order to get my bag out of the Jeep, along with the goodies. A seagull shrieked above my head and I gave it the evil eye. Damn bird had probably already sniffed out my cookies. Well, tough luck, sea chicken. These cookies were for humans only. Once the bag was safely on my shoulder, I closed my car door and rescued my precious cookies. These babies were not only yummy, but healthy with inflammation-dousing turmeric and low-sugar carob. Rip would love them since he was watching his sugar intake.
I turned, weighed down like a pack mule, already in my happy place with the wind in my hair and the smell of the sea floating by my nose. And the promise of a party. Let’s be real. A party would always be my true happy place. But there was Rip, standing on the edge of the marina, staring off at sea, hands on his hips. Such a Rip pose. Contemplative, ignoring all human interaction around him to stare off at nature with thoughts one could only guess at.
We were opposites. Like polar opposites. I instigated the party and he slunk away from it. He grunted his one-word answers and I put an exclamation mark at the end of all of mine. No wonder we loathed each other. I was tempted to say hate, but hate would imply that the bad feelings festered from what happened our junior year. Life was too short for festering of any kind. So I simply loathed Rip while admiring the muscles that strained against every damn T-shirt he wore. Someone needed to tell him to buy the next size up. The sight was doing weird things to my stomach and confusing the loathing waters. I liked my loathing to be pure, and these lustful thoughts were far from pure.
In fact, the sight of him staring off at the water was exactly like that one fateful night our junior year of high school.
“Don’t you just love it here?” Rip’s face almost looked boyish at his delight in seeing the ocean.
My heart hammered in my chest. What was it about seeing Rip’s normal demeanor come alive that spoke to something in my soul? Even Lenora had noticed how much he’d filled out over the summer. He was changing right before my eyes. Being here at the marina, just the two of us, was making me feel all sorts of things I hadn’t before.
“Yeah, I love the water. One of my favorite things about Auburn Hill, actually.” I smiled up at him, his brown eyes sparkling down at me.
He smiled back and I wanted to lick those lips of his. I leaned closer and he slipped his arm around my shoulders. It was a friendly move, one he’d done before, but something about the way he held me tonight made it seem like something more. Like the very thing I dreamed about when I went to bed at night.
I held my breath and rested my head against his shoulder. He flinched and I immediately lifted my head.
“S-sorry,” I stammered, thinking I’d read the situation all wrong and ruined everything.
He winced, but pulled me in front of him, his whole body pressed against mine, his hands low on my back. Holy hell, the boy had definitely grown some muscles over the summer. “No, it’s just…I have a bruise there.”
“What happened?” My stomach clenched, thinking the worst.
His dark gaze danced away from mine and I knew.
“Nothing. Just horsing around with the guys.”
