The Lies That Define Us (Us 2) - Page 51

She looked up at me with surprised, frightened eyes. “N-Nothing,” she stuttered, sweeping her hair forward to hide her face.

“Ahem.” My dad cleared his throat, and I turned around to find him, my mom, and the two guards standing there staring at us. I’d completely forgotten about them. “Should we continue?” My dad waved his hand forward at the rest of the pier.

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, hanging my head. “Ari?” I prompted, but when I looked in her direction, she had already gone ahead of us. She had her arms cradled against her chest, her body bent slightly forward in a protective stance, and her bag thumped at her side.

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and let out a groan.

Women.

“You should apologize.” My dad clapped his hand down on my shoulder.

“Apologize?” I spat. “I didn’t do anything.”

He chuckled and glanced at my mom behind us. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my life it’s that sometimes you have to apologize for nothing.”

I shrugged off his hand. “Yeah, well, Ari is nothing to me.”

He grinned at me and laughed. “Oh, son, you keep telling yourself that. Come on.” He motioned for my mom, and she stepped forward, grabbing his outstretched hand. The two went ahead of me, the guards following. “Say you’re sorry, Liam,” my dad called back, since I still stood in the same place. I watched them disappear into one of the shops, and up ahead, Ari sat on the railing with a cup of ice cream in her hands.

“Fuck it,” I cursed under my breath. I headed over to the ice cream stand and ordered chocolate ice cream in a cone. With my cone in hand, I headed over to where Ari sat and hopped up on the railing beside her.

I wasn’t going to say I was sorry. I hadn’t done anything, and I wasn’t five anymore and had to listen to everything my parents said.

“Your presence is choking me. I’m dying as we speak.”

I pressed my lips together to hide my smile. “You hardly look like you’re dying. Besides, my presence gives people life. I’m so fucking wonderful.”

She shook her head, dark strands of her hair falling forward over her shoulders. “More like dreadful.” She licked the vanilla ice cream off the spoon, and a rainbow sprinkle stuck to her top lip.

I stared at her lip and at that tiny blue speck. I wanted to take her face in my hands and lick it away, but I didn’t. Instead, I swiped it away with my thumb.

“Sprinkle,” I muttered, when she looked up at me with a questioning gaze.

I swallowed thickly and inhaled a deep breath. I was losing my mind around this girl. She was tilting my whole world off its axis, and I didn’t like it. No, that wasn’t it. I did like it, and that was the problem.

When I left Virginia for California I vowed no women, no distractions, just the surf. My goal had been to go pro, which I did, and now I wanted to stake my claim to the ocean. I’d proven myself enough to be accepted, and I had to show I was there to stay, and I was more than my father’s last name. I wanted to be remembered as a fucking fantastic surfer. Not as a rock star’s son. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the guy, but I was just sick and tired of being treated differently because I grew up with a famous dad, lots of money, and connections. I’d heard the whispers, the rumors, the ones the fucking tabloids printed, like I somehow had my dad buy my way into a surf career. As if knowledge of the ocean and how to tame it with a fucking board could be bought.

“Oh,” Ari gasped, licking her top lip and pulling me from my thoughts.

“Have you ever been to a pier before?” I asked her, remembering how awed she’d seemed when we arrived.

“No,” she shook her head, “I grew up in Nevada just outside of Vegas.” She pressed her lips together. Her eyes narrowed, almost like she was silently scolding herself for letting that slip.

Another truth to file away.

“Vegas.” I clucked my tongue. “Hmm.”

“It’s a dirty, greedy place,” she spat, glaring down into her cup of ice cream like it was what had offended her.

“It is,” I agreed.

I’d been to Vegas a few times, and each time the place made my skin crawl.

“I don’t feel very hungry anymore,” she muttered, chucking her cup into a nearby trash bin.

I finished my cone and nodded toward the arcade. “Wanna go?”

She looked up at me skeptically.

Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Us Romance
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