Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Brian jerked his chin, indicating she was fine. “Got a sec?” he asked.
What in the heck was this?
“Uh … sure, yeah, of course.” I stepped back and held the door open for him, letting go and backing into the living room as Brian entered the house.
My heart was back to pouting, head lowered as it kicked at the ground.
I really thought it was Jamie.
I pulled my shirt down so the hem touched the front of my thighs over my leggings. My fingers curled under the well-loved material and glued there. I didn’t want to fidget, but I knew if I let go, I would.
This was weird. Really weird. Brian never came over without Syd.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
Arms crossed over his wide chest as he stood inside my entryway, Brian stared at me. His face was serious. His eyes were hard. His chest was heaving slowly as he kept staring and not speaking for another breath, then another …
“Brian, you’re seriously freaking me out,” I told him. “What is it?”
“You and Jamie,” he began gruffly, and I felt my stomach drop out.
Oh, God …
I should’ve taken that box of Pop-Tarts upstairs, crawled into bed, and hibernated for the winter.
“The two of you, that ain’t my business,” he went on. “Don’t want it to be my business. Don’t ask about it. What you got going on, that’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Um, okay,” I replied hesitantly.
I had no idea where this was going.
“That being said, Jamie’s like my brother. If he gets with his girl and he’s happy, I’m happy for him. If something happens with his girl and that shit starts affecting him unlike anything I’ve ever seen, causing him to slip up and stop performing at the level of talent that idiot was fucking born with, I’m gonna ask about it. I asked. That’s why I’m here.”
“Um.” I squinted, hearing his words and tilting my head. “What do you mean, causing him to slip up?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
“San Diego last weekend. Did you hear how he placed?”
I shook my head.
I knew Jamie had a competition in San Diego. I was wanting to go with him, but with my dad’s health and the fact that he wasn’t one hundred percent out of the woods yet, I felt that this wasn’t the right time to leave the state. I wanted to be close.
“He didn’t,” Brian informed me. “Didn’t even break top ten.”
I felt my eyes go round. Jamie didn’t even break top ten? What? That couldn’t be right. He always broke top ten. He was number one. He couldn’t be beat.
“Yeah,” Brian mumbled, seeing my reaction. His brows lifted. “That’s never happened before. Even when Jamie was first starting out, he always placed. His head isn’t in it.”
I stared at Brian as a knot formed in my stomach. I could feel myself getting upset. Was he trying to make me feel bad? Like I was to blame for Jamie not placing? Why was this all my fault?
“So you know what happened then,” I said to verify.
“Yep.”
“He told you everything.”
Brian shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Did he tell you he’s the one who acted like he didn’t care?” My voice grew louder, hiding my pain. “That when I told Jamie how I felt about that interview, about him not mentioning anything about me or us, he made me feel stupid for feeling that way? I was hurt, Brian. I was hurt and he didn’t give a damn about it. I may have walked out, but he hasn’t done anything to try and fix this. He hasn’t called. He hasn’t come here.”
“What have you been doing?” he asked.
My lips pressed tightly together. Brian cocked his head, eyes all-knowing.
Damn it.
“He didn’t claim me,” I argued. My face was hot. I could feel my flush creeping down my neck. “I was upset! I’ve been upset.”
“What’d he tell you about those interviews?” Brian asked. “He say anything?”
“Yeah. He said he didn’t answer personal questions. And maybe that’s true, but—”
“Not maybe,” Brian interrupted. His voice was somber. I watched him reach into his back pocket and produce folded-up pages that looked to be torn out of a magazine. He held them out for me to take. “Here.”
Brow furrowed, I hesitated briefly, letting my hand hover in the air before reaching out and taking them. I unfolded the pages and pulled them apart. There were three. Different issues of the same magazine. Rail. These were Jamie’s interviews.
“He never said anything different, Tori,” Brian said as I found the question and word-for-word answer he was referring to. The same ‘no comment’ answer I read nine days ago. “Jamie does those interviews ’cause he knows it’ll draw attention to Wax. It’s not about him. Yeah, he talks about what surfing means to him, why he loves it, but if you read those articles, Jamie is always putting emphasis on the sport, not him. And he name-drops Wax every chance he gets. That’s the kinda guy he is. He could be like everybody else and talk all kinds of shit about himself, brag, do it for the attention, but he doesn’t. And those dickheads at Rail and every other magazine that’s interviewed him, they tell him, flat out, the questions are gonna be geared toward surfing. They know not to ask him personal shit. He makes that clear before he even sits down. So when they go there, every fuckin’ time he gives them the only answer he can give without telling them to fuck off. He’s never said anything different. He never will.”