Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

Was he much different to how he is now? It isn’t often I see him outside of the house and not around the kids. I know I see a different side to everyone else; I get to see the man who has become like a brother to me, the dad who dotes on his kids.

Should I be doing something to help him instead of not saying a word? We have the kind of relationship where I know I can voice my opinion, and because I don’t do it often, I’m taken seriously when I do.

All I can hear is Nate’s voice in my head. Was he trying to get me to say something to Tristan? No. That’s not Nate’s style. If he wanted to say something he would, he wouldn’t go through me.

“A?”

“What?”

“You good? You’ve been standing there staring at me for the last five minutes.” I shake my head, blinking my eyes several times in a row as the corner of his lip turns up into a smirk. “I know I’m a big shot CEO and the suits make me a hot commodity with the ladies, but please don’t say you’re crushing on me.”

My eyes widen as I stare at him in shock. “Ewww! Tris, you’re practically my brother.”

His smirk turns into a full-on grin at the look of horror that must be displaying across my face, his eyes filling with laughter.

“Don’t lie, it’s the suits, isn’t it?” He pulls on the cuffs of his sleeve before putting one hand in one of his pants pocket and striking a pose.

I stare at him like he has two heads and four arms. “That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.” He throws his head back, his laugh echoing around us and floating on the wind. When I realize he’s playing me up, I shout, “You ass!” I punch his arm. “You shouldn’t do that!”

His laughter dies down to chuckles as he steps forward, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and bringing his knuckles to my head.

“I can’t help it, it’s hilarious to wind you up.”

“Ugh!” I stomp my bare foot on the top of his shoe, pulling away and taking a few steps before spinning back around. “I’d never… never look at you like that.” I shiver. “Just… ewww.”

I turn my back to him before pacing over the grass and to the pool house, still hearing his laughter behind me.

Douche.

I shake Mr. Haynes’s hand and we part ways after our early breakfast meeting, loosening my tie and undoing the top button of my shirt on the way to my car.

Taking off my suit jacket and throwing it on the passenger seat as I climb in, I drive my way to my place to change clothes and cars, my surfboard already waiting for me in my Land Rover.

I’ve always loved surfing. My dad and I used to go whenever he had the time off work. It was always our thing until I started college and met Tris. I introduced him to surfing and then it was our thing.

We’ve been best friends for over fourteen years, but the last six have been hard and pretty one-sided on my end. I don’t blame him completely, Natalia was my cousin and I miss her more than anything. But I also miss mine and Tris’s friendship. Sure, I have other friends, but it’s not the same and I won’t give up on trying to get him out of his shell.

The traffic crawls to a standstill and I quickly check my cell, he still hasn’t messaged me back—today or over the last two weeks apart from shitty one-worded answers that he’s “okay” or the kids are “fine.”

My fingers type furiously over the screen and I hit send.

Nate: I’m giving you the weekend but be prepared, come Monday I’m going to be all over you like a rash. This isn’t healthy, Tris.

I sigh and pocket my cell, driving out of the city and pulling down the only road in and out of my property. I bought this land and had a house built on it three years ago to get out of the way of the town. I love being around people, but I also love my privacy. Not only that, but the land I bought is perfect for fishing, golfing, and four-wheeling. My backyard is the size of a football field and perfect for expansion if I ever wanted to, or if or when I ever have kids, I’ll build them a treehouse or den.

I wanted to build something for Izzie and Clay but I’ve never gotten around to it. Work keeps me plenty busy and Tris spends every moment he has free with them anyway. Maybe I should talk to Amelia about it and ask her to bring them over?

That thought has me grinning like a Cheshire cat; any excuse to be near her. We’ve never really been alone properly until the night I took her to Gillies sports bar, and although we have differing opinions on how Tris is handling things, I kinda like that she put me in my place. Like I said to my interns: I like someone that has a voice and isn’t afraid to speak up.

The large glass building of my home looms ahead of me, it’s mostly made of floor-to-ceiling windows and wood giving it an industrial look. But I like it.

I press my key fob and the large garage attached to the side—the only thing that isn’t made of glass—opens up for me, displaying a row of vehicles inside. Did I mention I love cars?

I get out and head inside to change, slipping on my short-sleeved wetsuit, leaving the top hanging and a crisp white t-shirt to cover my top half. I grab some board shorts and my Converse, slipping them on before putting in the code for the security alarm and heading toward my metallic-blue Land Rover.

There’s not a cloud in the sky as I drive to the beach. Several teens are there with their boards and I nod to them as I wax mine, slotting it in the sand as I warm up. The water will be freezing so it’s important I go in with my muscles warm.

When I’m happy I’m all warmed up, I slip the leash on my back leg and carry my board into the water, starting to paddle farther out to sea. I duck dive under the oncoming waves until I’m past the breaking point in the water.