Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

“I know. It’s bad enough I haven’t been able to go out in public without cameras following me around in years. I don’t need one inside watching me eat, sleep, train, watch Netflix in my underwear, shit with the door open, or have sex.”

Bodhi snorts.

“Fuck off. I have sex,” I mutter, crossing my arms in front of me.

“Okay, sure.” He laughs again.

“Shut up. It happens.”

“Yep, gotcha.”

“Sometimes. Every once in a while….” I trail off, trying to remember the last time I had a day off or even enough hours to myself where I had the energy to do anything other than sleep or make mental lists of all the reasons why I hated my life.

The only sex I’ve been having lately involves my hand and fantasies of the blip I’ve banned us from ever discussing.

“I can’t believe he did that to you in the middle of one of the biggest tournaments of the summer. No wonder you told him to eat your shit. No one else’s shit would do in a situation like this.”

Bodhi shakes his head, and the serious look on his face makes me laugh. Some of the panic starts to slip away when he speaks again.

“What do you want to do?”

For the first time since I woke up this morning, my mind goes completely blank. No one’s ever asked me that question before. Not about anything serious. And I know Bodhi is dead serious, and he’s not just talking about what I want to do for dinner when we get off the green. He’s asking me what I want to do with my life.

I’ve never been given any other option besides golf. I was born with a natural talent that I’ve been told over and over again I should be grateful for. It’s allowed me to travel the world, it’s provided me with more opportunities than I could have imagined, and I’ve made more money than I ever dreamed. And I’m miserable. I’ve been miserable since the first time a camera was aimed in my direction and I couldn’t just play golf and enjoy the game. It became a job, a chore, something I had to do instead of something I loved doing. I became a “yes man” to everything my dad demanded of me, because I was all he had in the world, and I felt like it was my job to fill all the voids in his life and do whatever I could to make him happy.

He never asked me what I wanted. He never cared about the voids in my life or what made me happy. He just ordered, and decided, and I kept my mouth shut and my head down, and I played the fucking game.

“I can’t lose my endorsements. I know that,” I finally speak quietly. “I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m not qualified for anything else. Golf is all I know. Unless I want to go broke while I figure shit out, I have to fix that at least.”

“Then we’ll fix that.” Bodhi nods like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I fired my dad as my manager. And I fired my agent and my publicist, because he hired them and they do whatever he demands without even consulting me. What the hell do I even do now? Where do I go?”

It’s all fun and games when you finally have all the time and freedom in the world, until you suddenly realize you have absolutely nowhere to go and you just embarrassed and fired the only family member you have in front of the entire world. Sure, I have a few rental properties in different locations where I spend the most time, but I’ve never been in one place long enough to make them into homes. There’s only one place that comes to mind every time I think of the word home.

“You know damn well where you need to go to lick your wounds,” Bodhi states, reading my mind. “Everyone on that island loves you, is protective of you, and will be happy to have the prodigal son return while you figure things out.”

Now it’s my turn to snort as I turn the key to start up the golf cart, figuring the clubhouse has probably cleared out by now, and I can sneak out of here without anyone seeing me or pushing a camera in my face, asking me how I feel about what happened today.

“Not everyone on that island loves me,” I remind him, making a U-turn and heading toward the cart path.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about the person who has to do with the blip. You’ve been barking at me and growling at me for two years if I even dare think about the person who has to do with the blip. Now we’re just gonna bring her up all willy-nilly?” Bodhi shouts out a curse, and his hands fly up to grab onto the roll bars when he almost flies out of the side of the golf cart when I accidentally take a turn on the path a little too sharp and fast.