Rough Waters (23 page)

Fifteen minutes later, after Logan goes home
and Miles takes Emily to get the strawberry milkshake he promised
her, I make a dash for Colby. He glances around the room at
everyone else before he speaks.

“Let’s walk outside,” he says, keeping his
voice low.

We manage to slip out without being noticed.
Bugs fly around the porch light, like many moons orbiting a single
planet. He motions toward his truck and lets the tailgate down when
we get to it. He holds an envelope in his hand – the resignation
letter.

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask as I sit
next to him.

He laughs. “My resignation letter for
Drenaline Surf? Yeah. Since you’re technically the PR
rep-slash-agent, I figured I should turn it in to you.”

I reach across him and grab the envelope from
his other hand. I’m terrified to read it, but at the same time, I
want to see what kind of lame ass excuse he used for wanting to
breach his contract and be let go from Drenaline Surf. I open the
envelope to a hundred pieces of tiny, shredded paper instead.

“What the hell?” I ask. “Is this a joke?”

He shakes his head. “That
was
my
resignation letter…until I talked to Joe this morning. You know,
you weren’t supposed to tell a Hooligan about the lawsuit, but I’m
glad you did. Topher went with me to talk to Joe about it, and he’s
already hired me a lawyer, someone Reed’s family knows. We’re going
to fight until the very end.”

This morning? Colby was planning to stay when
he talked to me. He let me sit there in his living room begging him
not to give up when he was already staying. No wonder he hadn’t
packed or called a moving truck to come in.

“So you just let me ramble on this morning,
begging you to chase your dream and all that crap?” I ask,
annoyed.

Colby shrugs. “You were creeping in my house.
I figured you had a big speech prepared. I didn’t want to steal
your thunder. There is one condition, though, as far as staying
with Drenaline Surf goes. The only person I want handling my career
is you. I’ve already told Joe. He said there was no better option.
So if you’re in, I’m in.”

“Well, I guess this is the start of our
forever then,” I say. “I’m in.”

After the Hooligans leave and my roommates
head home, I linger around with Joe and Topher to return Topher’s
envelope. I watch as Joe shares his excitement with Topher over the
future possibilities for Drenaline Surf. For him, that store is
what remains of his son, and to see it thrive and live on is sort
of like seeing Shark live on. The hell with grief – I hate that I
never knew Shark McAllister.

Topher walks across the room and wraps me up
in a tight hug. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he says.

“I had to return this to you,” I say. I pull
away and hand him the envelope with his contracts.

He sighs. “You’re all about business these
days, Haley. All about the PR and the contracts. You need to loosen
up a little bit, and I’m going to make you.”

He takes the envelope and walks over to Joe’s
dining room table. “Just so you know,” he says. “I bought a
tie.”

My heart skips three beats. He bought a tie.
Topher bought a tie. That means…

“Do you have a pen?” he asks, unfolding the
contracts.

Joe walks over, hands Topher a pen, and
watches him scribble his name on the dotted line of not only the
new contract but the original one Shark wrote up for him. Topher
caps the pen and smiles.

And Joe says exactly what we’re all thinking.
“It’s about damn time.”

It’s taken a year, but I’ve finally accepted
that in Crescent Cove, you can party or celebrate any damn night of
the week. So it doesn’t matter if Topher and I are celebrating on a
Tuesday night. That’s just how we roll.

Topher is officially a sponsored surfer
through Drenaline Surf, and he’s signing an endorsement with Ocean
Blast Energy next week. They finally get their poster boy, and he
finally gets to surf with Shark’s store’s logo on his wetsuit and
boards. His dream is a reality, and in a way, Shark’s dream is a
reality. Even
my
dream is a reality. I get to be a part of
the best moment in Drenaline Surf history.

“Are you seriously wearing that?” A.J. asks
from the doorway.

I hesitate and reexamine A’s little black
dress in the mirror. It’s a perfect fit. It’s flirty and sexy and
fun, just like Alston said before. It shimmers, and tonight is all
about shimmery moments.

“Yes, I’m seriously wearing this,” I say,
reaching for my lip gloss.

I run the clear gloss over my lips and try
not to regret the sparkly eyeshadow that Emily gave me. I’m usually
not so glitzy. Maybe it is too much sparkle. A.J.’s right. I can’t
wear this.

“You are sexy as hell,” A.J. says. “Topher’s
going to jizz himself. Do you need condoms? He’s going to want a
piece of you. I can tell you that now.”

Oh. My. God.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” I say,
returning to my closet. I pull all of my tank tops and T-shirts to
one side and browse the dressier side of my closet.

A.J. walks across the room to me. “He’s a
Hooligan. That wild side is dying to break free, and now that big
brother’s gone… I’m just saying.”

He needs to stop ‘just saying.’ This isn’t a
date. This is me, going out with a friend, to celebrate something
awesome happening in my friend’s life. Although, I doubt many
people wear little black dresses when hanging out with a friend of
the opposite sex.

“A.J.,” I say, spinning around and facing
him. “This is Topher.
Topher
. He’s never even kissed a girl.
Nothing is going to happen. So, no, I don’t need condoms. When did
you get all grown up anyway?”

A puzzled expression engulfs his face. “Fuck
if I know,” he says. “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m worried
about what you’re wearing and preaching about safe sex. Fuck. I’m
getting drunk tonight.”

“That’s my boy,” I say, giving him a one-arm
hug. “But in all seriousness, is the dress okay or too much?”

“You’re perfect,” A.J. says. “And if Topher
doesn’t tell you that you’re perfect, I’m going to kick his ass all
over Crescent Cove and Horn Island both.”

It doesn’t get any better than perfect.
Tonight is a big deal, and A told me, whatever I do, do it big. The
dress expects it. I just hope A’s dress appreciates the symbolism
of tonight as much as I do.

“It feels like prom night, and I’m seeing my
daughter off,” Reed says as we linger around the kitchen. “I feel
like I should have a rifle or something hanging on the wall, posted
up behind me while I stare at Topher and give him the daddy
speech.”

“Is it weird?” Alston asks, glancing up from
his phone. “You know, you were dating Vin, and now you’re going on
a date with his brother, and you’re looking hotter than you ever
looked for Vin. It’s weird, right?”

Headlights shine through the window, and I
wait to hear the roar of Topher’s truck. An engine shuts off, and I
peek out to see who it is. It’s Topher…and a black sports car.

“Okay, I’m gone,” I say, pushing Reed back
before he can lecture Topher just to embarrass me. It’s awkward
enough without the roomies and their smart remarks. I grab the door
and pull it shut behind me.

“Nice car,” I say, trying to keep it casual.
I wasn’t nervous before, but God knows I can’t stop shaking now. I
have to get my stupid roommates out of my head – fast.

Topher shrugs. “It’s a rental,” he says. “I
just didn’t want to pick you up in my truck. It’s a mess, but you
know that.”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his
black slacks and stares at the sidewalk. He wears a black button up
shirt with a silver tie. He looks classy and a bit more than
adorable. I step closer to him and run my hand down the tie.

“That dress…” Topher says, shaking his
head.

“Too much? It’s too much. I can change,” I
say.

“No, you’re perfect,” Topher says. “C’mon.
We’re leaving before you have time to get back to your closet.”

He walks me over to the car and opens the
door for me. For Topher to have never been on a date, he’s pulling
out the big guns. I’ve never had a guy open the car door for me
before.

“Are you test-driving this car for a possible
future purchase?” I ask as he gets in the driver’s seat. He needs a
new vehicle, for sure, but I can’t see Topher in anything other
than a truck.

He shakes his head. “Nowhere to put my
boards,” he says. “And it’s too nice. I’d have it full of sand in
the first twenty-four hours.”

“You’re right,” I agree. “And Miles wouldn’t
have anywhere to put his crutches next time he does something
stupid and breaks a leg.”

Topher laughs as he backs out of the
driveway. He turns in the direction of Colby’s house, the other
side of Crescent Cove.

“You’re the only girl I know who would tell
me to buy a truck instead of a sports car,” Topher says. “Even
Emily would go for the car, but that’s because it’s shiny. It’s her
thing.”

The layer of sparkles on each of my eyelids
can testify to that. Topher is quiet for most of the drive. I want
to ask where we’re going, but I’m too scared I’ll choke on my
words. This isn’t a date. I wish I could get the world out of my
head and enjoy this moment. Instead, I feel like I’m going to vomit
all over this super clean floorboard.

The streetlights glow overhead, lighting up
the city strip. We pass a tattoo parlor with zebra striped walls.
We’ve been through here before, on our way to Toledo’s Bistro and
Lounge. Topher whips the car into a parking lot outside of a sleek
black building.

“Café Jezza,” Topher says. “It’s my favorite,
and I think you’ll love it. Plus, it’s sort of tradition. We came
here when Colby got sponsored and when Miles got sponsored last
summer too. Now it’s my turn.”

“Shouldn’t you have brought your entourage
then?” I ask as we walk toward the entrance.

“Nah, I’d rather just have you,” Topher
says.

It takes approximately one hour, two glasses
of sweet tea, and three stories about Shark, but Topher’s nerves
finally seem to have chilled, which makes it much easier for me to
breathe. We wait at a back corner table for our waiter to bring us
the check. Topher wasn’t kidding about having to have reservations
for his place. I wonder what kind of connections he has to get in
here on short notice at a private table.

While we wait, Topher explains how Café Jezza
used to be a coffee shop when he was a kid. After the bakery moved
in, the coffee shop lost a ton of business and almost went under.
The owner decided to change it up, turned it into a five-star
Italian restaurant, and made it the most popular place in Crescent
Cove once again. The name never changed.

The manager brings us our check, addresses
Topher as “Mr. Brooks,” and invites us back ‘any time.’ Is this
what the real world feels like? Is this what being an adult is? If
so, it’s not nearly as awful as I imagined.

Once we’re back in the car, Topher hesitates
for a second. Then he looks at me. “You want to go down to the
beach? Just to talk for a while?”

I nod, but I secretly wish I had a bag of
sugar cubes to feed him while we talk. He’s much more relaxed now
that he has some sugar in his system, and I’d prefer to keep him
that way. He drives just down the street and turns in at a dock.
Boats line the wooden pier, parked for the night.

Topher reaches down into the floorboard. “You
know, I liked dressing up, really. But these shoes suck.”

After losing the socks and shoes, he rolls up
the bottom of his black pants to keep them from dragging through
the sand. I leave Emily’s one-inch rhinestone-encrusted heels in
the passenger floorboard. Topher wasn’t kidding. It won’t even take
him twenty-four hours to end up with sand in that car.

He grabs a beach towel from the backseat and
locks the car. We make our way down to a clear spot, away from the
boats. The waves roll in, calm and steady, unlike the last time I
was at the beach at night with Topher. I’m so glad he doesn’t have
a surfboard with him.

He flattens the towel out on the sand. “After
you,” he says.

“Mr. Brooks, I do believe you had this
planned,” I say, sitting on the towel.

“I just like to be prepared,” he says,
joining me. “It’s easier for me to talk about things when the
ocean’s in front of me. It sort of balances out the craziness in my
head when all my thoughts just jumble up.”

The moon flickers like a night light for all
of California, brightening up the night sky. I wish the ocean was
as soothing and calming for me as it is for Topher. I don’t know if
it ever will be now. Any comfort I had was ripped away when we
almost lost Topher. I don’t bleed salt water like he does. The
ocean may give a lot, but the ocean takes back too. That’ll always
be in the back of my mind.

“I’m moving out of the apartment,” Topher
says. “It doesn’t feel right without Vin, and it’s not exactly the
nicest of places. I’m tossing out the furniture, or leaving it for
them to get rid of. Whatever. I’m just packing up what belongs to
me, dropping the keys off, and getting out.”

“Where will you go?” I ask, hoping it won’t
be too far, even though I know it won’t be.

“Well, Jace and Theo offered me a room at
their place, and then Joe told me I could stay with him, but Miles
and I are actually going to move in with Colby,” he says. “We’re
going to try to make this whole Drenaline Surf brotherhood
work.”

Colby will take care of him. That much I
know. I actually trust Colby to look after Topher more than I trust
even Jace or Joe. Colby needs that Drenaline Surf brotherhood. He
needs Topher and Miles as much as they need him, even if none of
them realize it.

We talk about his endorsement with Ocean
Blast Energy, about the second store and how crazy it is that
Alston and A.J. will be Drenaline Surf’s managers, and eventually
about how he’s still mad at Vin for leaving.