Say You Swear
Page 2
Nine out of ten times, I’m thinking about the man beside me.
It’s the oldest cliché in the books to want who you can’t have. Unrequited love for your brother’s best friend, a brother who is insanely protective, and, yeah, admittedly slightly psychotic when it comes to those he cares about. He can’t help it though. As soon as we were old enough to learn how my dad lost his baby sister, Mason made it his mission to shadow my every step. Combine that with the death of our friend Payton’s boyfriend a couple weeks ago, and he’s a pile of paranoia.
The fact that Chase was passed out for most of the drive today likely saved me from a solid dozen glares through the rearview mirror. Pretty sure that’s why Mase insists I sit in the middle every time we ride together, so he can keep eyes on me at all times.
It’s sweet how my twin takes his ‘big brother’ role so seriously.
It’s also really annoying.
Had we stayed on track this morning, we would have rolled into town around eleven, but here we are, turning into the long driveway of the beach house at a quarter to one.
Mason barely has time to put his Tahoe in park before Cameron is throwing her door open and hopping out. She runs halfway up the steps, and spins on her bare feet, throwing her arms out with a smile. “Come on you guys! Time’s already ticking!”
“We have the rest of the month!” Mason shouts out his open window.
“And we’re already down half a day!” Cam fires back.
I smile, patting my brother’s shoulder. “Come on, Mase, we’re a half-day down,” I tease, and my brother grumbles as I slip out the door, following Cameron along the wrap-around deck.
She beams, hopping up to sit on the edge of the banister, so I join her, and Brady’s stepping up in the next second.
“This is fuckin’ insane!” Cam shakes her head, eyeing the area.
“Fuck yeah, it is.” Brady faces the ocean with a grin.
Heavy footsteps behind us let us know the other two have walked up, and together, we spin.
The five of us stand there a moment, silently breathing in the fresh seaside air as we stare into the floor-to-ceiling window of the beach house.
Of our beach house, as of a month ago.
Mine, Cameron, and Brady’s mom have been best friends since college, and before they even married our dads, they bought a beach house together. As the years went by, marriage and us kids followed, they kept that place as a spot to always come. Then, when we were young, I guess there was a crash in the housing market, and all our parents were lucky enough to snag vacation homes along the beach, and ever since then, this is where our families spent every school holiday. We never understood why, but they never did sell the original home they purchased, and that’s the house we’re about to enter, but it looks nothing like the place we saw as kids.
They had it gutted, parts torn down, and not only rebuilt, but also added onto. It’s completely renovated.
Coastal blue in color, the place is huge. It has a massive wrap-around patio, leading to a massive back deck, the one we’re currently standing on, and a private pathway, leading to a beautiful dock surrounded by California Poppies. There’s even a full sound system with speakers embedded into the corners of the walls, patio, and wood paneling every few dozen feet—there isn’t a single spot in or around the place the music can’t reach. Being on the opposite side of the condo strip, it’s more secluded, so the sound doesn’t bother others who are trying to have a more relaxing vacation.
It’s the perfect escape, a palace on the water.
And it was just given to us.
To all five of us.
Our parents surprised us at our graduation party, handing us a deed to the place, all our names listed as equal owners. They said they decided to do this for us years ago as a way to try and keep our crew close, no matter where life may take us after college, as the place did for them afterward.
Splitting it equally among us meant no one can decide to sell without the others, and should life take us away at some time, we’d always have this place to come back to at any point.
To say we were excited is an understatement, but for me, it also brought a hint of dread. It was sort of a depressing conversation, to be honest. I’m not so naive to assume that our lives would stay the same, that it would be us five for always, but it is kind of terrifying to consider the alternative.
New people will come into our lives, I know this.
Some might be for the better, others for the worse.