“That’s an understatement.” Lachy snorts. “Do you think he’ll ever forget the troublemaker who filled his car with sand on year twelve muck-up day?”
I gasp. “You didn’t?!”
Ivy nods. “He did. And that was after spending half the year in his office for getting into trouble with this one.” She jerks her thumb in her boyfriend’s direction.
Lachy raises his hands in defence. “Hey, I still claim peer pressure.”
Harley groans. “Seriously guys. Please can we give it a rest? Sneaking around is frustrating enough. I don’t need you guys rubbing it in my face, alright?”
“So why do it?” I ask, my stomach twisting. I was in the same situation twelve months ago with Brady... and look at how that turned out.
He shrugs. “I dunno. I like her, I guess. She’s fun–”
“In bed.” Lachy sniggers. Ivy pinches the skin underneath his arm and he winces as he rubs at it.
Harley gets to his feet, a scowl on his face. “Forget it. I’ll catch you guys later.”
Ivy punches Lachy, who gives her an incredulous, “What?”
“You went too far jackass – as usual.” She shakes her head. “Harley deserves something good in his life, especially after everything he’s been through. If Ellie makes him happy, then so be it. Even if he does have to hide it. It can’t be easy knowing people are either feeling sorry for you, or judging you based on your family.”
I hear the hardness in her voice, and so does Lachy. He drops his head, muttering something under his breath in Italian.
I sigh as I scan the beach, my eyes landing on where Brady is resting against the surf lifesaving vehicle, dressed in his yellow and red lifeguard uniform. As usual, there is a group of sun-kissed girls in their bikinis laughing and batting their eyelashes in his direction, but his gaze never leaves the water, scanning for rips or struggling swimmers.
My heart swells at how seriously he takes his job. I don’t know how he can even bear to go back in the water after what happened to him.
Brady had been sitting second place in the final round of the TropSets Surf Fest last year when he wiped out on a monster wave. His board clipped him in the side of the head as it came down.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the images of Brady’s body being pulled from the water, blood pouring from the gash on his temple. I’d clutched Ivy’s hand in mine as we watched the lifeguards on duty immediately start CPR on him. I don’t think I breathed until he coughed up the salt water. He’d spent the next twenty-four hours in hospital for observation.
Rolling on to my stomach, I rest my head on my arms as the memories of what he told me the night he got out of hospital wash over me.
Ivy had invited me to stay over at their house, and I’d woken at midnight parched, so I headed out to the dark kitchen to get myself a glass of water. Brady’s back leaned against the wall of the bay window, his knees pulled up to his chest, head in his hands. My gaze brushed over the matted hair where they had stapled the wound closed, and he looked up at me when I walked into the room, his eyes shining in the moonlight.
“Hey, Rookie.” His voice was gravelly, stirring something in my stomach. I wondered if his throat was still sore from coughing up all the salt water.
I hesitated before moving to stand in front of him. “Are you okay?”
He sucked in a shuddering breath as he closed his eyes. “Not really.” He gave me a half smile, half grimace, indicating for me to take a seat in front of him.
Every nerve ending was on high alert as I mirrored him, careful not to make contact with his feet. “Are you in pain? Do you want me to get some Panadol? Or your parents? I can go get them for you.”
“No!” He reached out and grabbed my leg. I jumped at the sparks that zipped up my body from the skin-to-skin contact. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hand and blowing out a deep breath. “I can’t see my dad right now.”
Brady was a spitting image of his dad – dark wavy hair with sun-kissed highlights, green eyes, six-foot-three with broad shoulders. Jeremy Willis was a retired pro-surfer who now judged for the WSL. Brady had always looked up to him, saying for as long as I’d known him that he couldn’t wait to grow up and be a pro-surfer just like his dad. I had no idea where all this animosity was coming from. Shocked, I just sat there in silence, giving him the opportunity to tell me, or not.
“Dad’s cheating on Mum.”
I gasped, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth in shock. That was not what I had expected him to say. Jeremy was always telling Elouise how much he loved her. He travelled a lot with his job, but when he was home, he showered his wife with affection. Ivy loved to roll her eyes and pretend to gag, but I know she secretly hoped that she and Lachy would have the kind of love her parents had. Or appeared to have.
“Are you sure? I mean, how do you–”
“I busted him.” Brady shook his head, wincing slightly.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Without thinking, I reached out and rested my hand on his knee. He stared at it for a moment, before resting his own hand over the top of mine. “What–”
“Can we please not talk about it?” A tear slipped down his cheek. I brought my other hand up to brush it away. We both froze as my fingers rested on his flushed skin. His eyes bore into mine like he was searching for something. My heart thumped so hard, I felt like it would beat right out of my chest.