Hit the Spot
Page 83
I blinked at him, feeling my stomach drop out. “What?” I whispered.
His sponsor dropped him? What the hell? Why would they do that?
“Babe,” Jamie started, head shaking as he prepared to play this down, I just knew it.
“Why would they do that? What happened?” I asked him.
“Don’t matter,” he replied curtly. “Made their decision. It’s done.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Let it go. It don’t matter,” he told me, then he jerked his chin as his eyes moved past me. “Come on. I gotta get goin’ and you’re gonna be late,” he said, pushing off from his bike and forcing me back a step.
I slapped my hand against his chest as he tried directing me to move, informing him, “I don’t care one bit about being late, and I will not let this go. I wanna know what happened.”
Jamie quit trying to direct me.
“Let it go, babe,” he repeated.
“No,” I said, moving my hands to my hips and pushing his off. “Tell me right now what happened. Why did they drop you?”
Jamie’s jaw clenched. His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath.
“Got pissed when I took off the other day and went to Raleigh to be with you,” he revealed, not looking sad or angry or hurt. Just stating facts. His face was expressionless.
Something sick twisted in my gut. I thought I might vomit.
“Not just ’cause I left without telling ’em, but ’cause I was supposed to plug some new sports drink or some shit while I was down there, and considerin’ I never got to run, I never got to be seen drinking that shit while holding a fuckin’ trophy,” he continued. “They’re pissed ’cause of that and ’cause that wasn’t the first time I bailed on them. Pulled the same shit when Dash had his wreck. Needed to see to him. Needed to see to you. They don’t get that, they can fuckin’ drop me. I don’t give a fuck.” He jerked his chin at Whitecaps again, keeping my gaze. “Now give me a kiss and get your ass inside. You’re gonna be late.”
I blinked, lifting my hand to cover my mouth.
Jamie watched this happen. His face got soft, then his hand darted out, snaked around the back of my neck, and pulled, crushing me against him.
I went easily, burying my face in his chest and gripping on to his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, feeling responsible for this and so, so sad for him. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling right now.
Jamie’s hand at my neck gave me a squeeze, then he murmured, “Pick you up after your shift,” into my hair, not sounding a bit sorry for what he’d done and the consequences he was facing. He pulled back at the same time as I did, pressed a kiss to my forehead, released me, and jerked his chin one more time in the direction behind me.
“Go, babe,” he ordered.
This time, I didn’t argue. I went.
Chapter Twenty-two
JAMIE
“You have obligations to us. This isn’t a one-way street.” “We warned you before, Jamie. If you can’t commit to your part of the deal, then we can’t work with you.”
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t working for us anymore.”
I replayed that conversation in my head as I stood on the deck, body bent and tipped forward with elbows braced on the rail. I stared out at the ocean, waiting for something to hit me.
Anger. Regret. Shame. Calm for being out here ’cause that’s what I always felt being this close to the water. Smelling it. Hearing the waves crash.
I closed my eyes, pulled in a breath, released it, then looked back out.
I didn’t feel a motherfucking thing.
I wasn’t embarrassed for getting dropped. I didn’t regret what I did either. I wouldn’t go back and keep myself at that meet or turn around once getting word from Travis that Tori’s dad wasn’t critical. I wouldn’t stop myself.
I’d do it again. I’d do it all over, knowing the outcome. I’d always go to her.
I took a drag from my cigarette, holding the smoke in my lungs and letting it burn, then blowing it out above me.
Losing a sponsor was more humiliating than anything, even though I wasn’t feeling that right now either. I could still surf. Could still compete. I just wouldn’t have them backing me. I wouldn’t have that worth they instilled on me wanting to be tied to my name. That support from them, it was gone. And everyone would know it.
This could affect Wax. I pulled in a lot of business offering lessons. Having them behind me gave me bigger clout. It drew attention. Now I wouldn’t have that. And getting dropped, once word got out, there was a chance my other two sponsors could cut ties with me as well. Straight up, this could hurt us. Could hurt us to the point of Dash and me losing our dream. If shit got really bad, we’d have to sell.
Thinking on that, I waited to feel it. Remorse. Guilt. Dash and I could fucking lose everything and still … I would do it again.
My reputation on the line. All of my sponsors threatening to pull out. I would do it again.
Fuck it. Fuck everything that wasn’t her. I told Tori I would burn the world down and I was. If choosing her meant losing everything, I’d hand it over. I loved her. Fucking loved her.
I took another pull of my cigarette, staring out at the water. Feeling nothing.
Nothing but that love.
Chapter Twenty-three
TORI
Jamie was in shock. I just knew he was. He’d said four, five words, maybe, since he picked me up thirty minutes ago. Those words coming when I went rushing out to him from Whitecaps and hurling myself into his arms.
“I’d do it again, babe,” he’d said, his arms tight around me, his breath in my hair and his hands running soothingly up and down my back. He was comforting me.
I should’ve been the one comforting him. I wanted to be.
I asked if he was okay and if there was anything I could do, if he needed anything. “Mm,” was all he’d said. Mm. I typically didn’t count noises as words, but that was Jamie’s only response.
I didn’t know what that meant. Yes—he needed me? No—he didn’t need anything? My stomach was in knots.
After he brought us back to the house and I followed him inside, I asked if I could make him something to eat, figuring we could sit and talk. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know what this meant—Jamie losing his sponsor and how he felt about it and what was going through his head. Something. Anything. I wanted him to know what was going through mine.
But Jamie just shook his head at me, bent down, and pressed a kiss to my hair. He was acting unconcerned, unaffected, un-Jamie-like. Then he turned and made for the slider that led out to the deck. He didn’t ask me to follow. He didn’t want to talk. He was stepping out.
His pack of cigarettes in his hand. One lit before he even made it outside.
He was smoking, so I knew the Mm and the blasé attitude were just a front. Jamie only smoked when something got to him. Stressed him out. Worried him. Pissed him off. He was definitely feeling something, maybe a lot of things. I just didn’t know what.
I wanted to help him. I wanted to do something. Make this better somehow. But what could I do?
His sponsor dropped him? What the hell? Why would they do that?
“Babe,” Jamie started, head shaking as he prepared to play this down, I just knew it.
“Why would they do that? What happened?” I asked him.
“Don’t matter,” he replied curtly. “Made their decision. It’s done.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Let it go. It don’t matter,” he told me, then he jerked his chin as his eyes moved past me. “Come on. I gotta get goin’ and you’re gonna be late,” he said, pushing off from his bike and forcing me back a step.
I slapped my hand against his chest as he tried directing me to move, informing him, “I don’t care one bit about being late, and I will not let this go. I wanna know what happened.”
Jamie quit trying to direct me.
“Let it go, babe,” he repeated.
“No,” I said, moving my hands to my hips and pushing his off. “Tell me right now what happened. Why did they drop you?”
Jamie’s jaw clenched. His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath.
“Got pissed when I took off the other day and went to Raleigh to be with you,” he revealed, not looking sad or angry or hurt. Just stating facts. His face was expressionless.
Something sick twisted in my gut. I thought I might vomit.
“Not just ’cause I left without telling ’em, but ’cause I was supposed to plug some new sports drink or some shit while I was down there, and considerin’ I never got to run, I never got to be seen drinking that shit while holding a fuckin’ trophy,” he continued. “They’re pissed ’cause of that and ’cause that wasn’t the first time I bailed on them. Pulled the same shit when Dash had his wreck. Needed to see to him. Needed to see to you. They don’t get that, they can fuckin’ drop me. I don’t give a fuck.” He jerked his chin at Whitecaps again, keeping my gaze. “Now give me a kiss and get your ass inside. You’re gonna be late.”
I blinked, lifting my hand to cover my mouth.
Jamie watched this happen. His face got soft, then his hand darted out, snaked around the back of my neck, and pulled, crushing me against him.
I went easily, burying my face in his chest and gripping on to his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, feeling responsible for this and so, so sad for him. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling right now.
Jamie’s hand at my neck gave me a squeeze, then he murmured, “Pick you up after your shift,” into my hair, not sounding a bit sorry for what he’d done and the consequences he was facing. He pulled back at the same time as I did, pressed a kiss to my forehead, released me, and jerked his chin one more time in the direction behind me.
“Go, babe,” he ordered.
This time, I didn’t argue. I went.
Chapter Twenty-two
JAMIE
“You have obligations to us. This isn’t a one-way street.” “We warned you before, Jamie. If you can’t commit to your part of the deal, then we can’t work with you.”
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t working for us anymore.”
I replayed that conversation in my head as I stood on the deck, body bent and tipped forward with elbows braced on the rail. I stared out at the ocean, waiting for something to hit me.
Anger. Regret. Shame. Calm for being out here ’cause that’s what I always felt being this close to the water. Smelling it. Hearing the waves crash.
I closed my eyes, pulled in a breath, released it, then looked back out.
I didn’t feel a motherfucking thing.
I wasn’t embarrassed for getting dropped. I didn’t regret what I did either. I wouldn’t go back and keep myself at that meet or turn around once getting word from Travis that Tori’s dad wasn’t critical. I wouldn’t stop myself.
I’d do it again. I’d do it all over, knowing the outcome. I’d always go to her.
I took a drag from my cigarette, holding the smoke in my lungs and letting it burn, then blowing it out above me.
Losing a sponsor was more humiliating than anything, even though I wasn’t feeling that right now either. I could still surf. Could still compete. I just wouldn’t have them backing me. I wouldn’t have that worth they instilled on me wanting to be tied to my name. That support from them, it was gone. And everyone would know it.
This could affect Wax. I pulled in a lot of business offering lessons. Having them behind me gave me bigger clout. It drew attention. Now I wouldn’t have that. And getting dropped, once word got out, there was a chance my other two sponsors could cut ties with me as well. Straight up, this could hurt us. Could hurt us to the point of Dash and me losing our dream. If shit got really bad, we’d have to sell.
Thinking on that, I waited to feel it. Remorse. Guilt. Dash and I could fucking lose everything and still … I would do it again.
My reputation on the line. All of my sponsors threatening to pull out. I would do it again.
Fuck it. Fuck everything that wasn’t her. I told Tori I would burn the world down and I was. If choosing her meant losing everything, I’d hand it over. I loved her. Fucking loved her.
I took another pull of my cigarette, staring out at the water. Feeling nothing.
Nothing but that love.
Chapter Twenty-three
TORI
Jamie was in shock. I just knew he was. He’d said four, five words, maybe, since he picked me up thirty minutes ago. Those words coming when I went rushing out to him from Whitecaps and hurling myself into his arms.
“I’d do it again, babe,” he’d said, his arms tight around me, his breath in my hair and his hands running soothingly up and down my back. He was comforting me.
I should’ve been the one comforting him. I wanted to be.
I asked if he was okay and if there was anything I could do, if he needed anything. “Mm,” was all he’d said. Mm. I typically didn’t count noises as words, but that was Jamie’s only response.
I didn’t know what that meant. Yes—he needed me? No—he didn’t need anything? My stomach was in knots.
After he brought us back to the house and I followed him inside, I asked if I could make him something to eat, figuring we could sit and talk. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know what this meant—Jamie losing his sponsor and how he felt about it and what was going through his head. Something. Anything. I wanted him to know what was going through mine.
But Jamie just shook his head at me, bent down, and pressed a kiss to my hair. He was acting unconcerned, unaffected, un-Jamie-like. Then he turned and made for the slider that led out to the deck. He didn’t ask me to follow. He didn’t want to talk. He was stepping out.
His pack of cigarettes in his hand. One lit before he even made it outside.
He was smoking, so I knew the Mm and the blasé attitude were just a front. Jamie only smoked when something got to him. Stressed him out. Worried him. Pissed him off. He was definitely feeling something, maybe a lot of things. I just didn’t know what.
I wanted to help him. I wanted to do something. Make this better somehow. But what could I do?
