"I just wanted to be closer to them." She frowned, tilting her head back to the water.

"Don't do that," I ground out. "You could've fallen in and hurt yourself." I squeezed her hip roughly-in warning or in play, I didn't know-and let her go.

"Worried about me?" She waggled her brows in jest, but her words. .h.i.t me hard.

I was growing to care about her, and caring led to so many other things. Like worry.

"Nah, not at all." I shrugged off her words and clasped my hands as I leaned against the railing, trying to seem indifferent.

Distance yourself, Liam. You have to.

But I couldn't. Not with Ari. I kept getting pulled closer and closer to her. The more I tugged against the string, the faster I was yanked back in. I scrubbed my hands down my face. I was so f.u.c.ked and not in a good way.

"You're such a liar," she taunted, leaning over the railing again. Thank G.o.d she didn't try to hurl her whole body over it that time. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, staring down at the dolphins with a smile on her face. She tilted her head up to me and sobered. "But so am I."

"Is that so?" I raised a brow and leaned my hip against the railing.

She nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Lies are easier to swallow than the truth."

"Why's that?" I inquired, curious to know her answer.

"Because the truth is just that-the truth. It's fact. Indisputable. With lies we can delude ourselves into believing something that doesn't really exist. If you tell yourself something enough, it begins to feel like the truth, but that's just another lie."

"What's with your fascination with truth and lies?" I braced my arms on the railing and leaned closer to her, inspecting her through the dark lenses of my sungla.s.ses.

She pursed her lips and seemed to be taking my question seriously. "It's not that, really, that fascinates me so much. It's the lengths the human mind will go to in order to stay sane."

I absorbed her words, repeating each one over in my mind. I pulled the words apart and put them back together.

"What the h.e.l.l happened to you?" I ground out.

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.

"f.u.c.k 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 f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.king 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.

"Come on," I coaxed. "I promise it'll be fun."

She looked up at me through her thick, dark lashes. "I'm not sure our ideas of fun are the same."

I ducked my head, stifling a laugh. I loved when she got s.p.u.n.ky. "That's probably true, but I can't do much damage in an arcade surrounded by children."

"True." She tipped her chin toward the arcade, contemplating what to do. "Okay." She finally shrugged. Leveling me with a glare, she said, "But don't you dare let me win anything. If I beat you, I want it to be genuine."

I stared down at her, fighting a smile, but my face stayed serious. "I don't lose."

She hopped off the railing, and even though she stood inches shorter than me, she suddenly seemed much taller as she leered at me. "Funny, because I don't either."

She turned sharply and headed into the arcade.

I hopped off the railing, following her, my eyes glued to her a.s.s as it swayed in the tight pair of jean shorts. I swallowed thickly, hating the power she had over me but loving it at the same time. It'd been so long since I'd felt so out of control.

But I couldn't deny that there was so much about her that I didn't know, and her reaction to our early morning kiss said a lot. I'd get to the bottom of it, though. I'd never met a challenge I couldn't conquer, and Ari was no different.

Ari.

I came home from work completely exhausted. It was only the day before that I'd been out on the pier with Liam and his family having a good time-a much better time than I'd expected even after Liam had uttered, "What happened to you?"

He'd let it go easily, which I was thankful for. There were no words to explain what happened to me, because nothing could explain the horrors I'd lived through.

I opened the door to my bedroom, dropping my bag to the floor before closing the door. I immediately ripped off my pale-blue polo shirt, wanting to rid myself of the smell of grease and fried food. My hair fanned around my face, little fly-aways escaped from the ponytail.

I kicked off my shoes and was reaching for the b.u.t.ton on my shorts when I saw the items lying on my bed.

My breath left me in a small gasp as I strode quickly over to the bed, wanting to touch the items and confirm they were real before I let my excitement set in.

I picked up the large sketchbook and flipped it open. I ran the tips of my fingers over the thick paper and breathed out a happy sigh before bringing the sketchbook to my nose and inhaling the scent of fresh paper. A grin lit up my face, and I was helpless to contain it. My hand already twitched with its need to glide across the page and bring to life the images in my head.

I picked up the pencils and cradled them and the sketchbook to my chest.

"Thank you, Liam," I whispered, even though he wasn't there to hear.

I'd felt like I was missing a limb being without a sketchbook. It helped me to cope and quiet the chaos in my head. It was the one outlet Blaise had allowed me, and I cherished it like a precious stone.

I set the items back down and quickly removed the rest of my clothes so I could shower and change into something clean. Once I no longer smelled like a grease ball, I could draw.

I took the fastest shower of my life, scrubbing my body with probably too much vigor, but I couldn't wait; the need to purge my thoughts and feelings into the pages of the sketchbook was too much.

Once I was out of the shower, I tied my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and changed into a pair of gray cotton shorts in a soft cotton material and a loose t-shirt with a heart over the left breast. I grabbed a jacket, just in case it was windy out, slipped on a pair of black flip-flops, and tucked the sketchpad and pencils under my arm.

I pa.s.sed Liam's parents in the family room, and they both waved in acknowledgement. I didn't see Liam, but that wasn't unusual. He might be in his secret room that no one is allowed into. I was totally rolling my eyes at that thought. I mean, seriously, what is in there?

I opened the sliding gla.s.s door and headed outside, down the stairs, and to the beach.

I kept my head low as I walked across the beach. A few neighbors were milling about, and the last thing I wanted to do was speak to a stranger.

I finally found a spot where tall gra.s.ses grew. I plopped right in the middle of it, letting the outer gra.s.s shield me from pa.s.sersby. I'd probably end up red and itchy from the gra.s.s, but it'd be worth it.

I opened the sketchbook to the first crisp page and pulled a pencil from the pack.

My hand glided over the page in light strokes, forming the shape of a person starting from the shoulders up, head tilted to the side and eyes raised to the sun.

Liam.

I shouldn't have been surprised that he was the first thing I wanted to draw.

My tongue stuck out between my lips as I worked, sweeping my hand over the page.

When the drawing was done I immediately turned to the next page. I found myself drawing Ollie and Talia, standing in front of their Volkswagen van. Ollie was smiling down at her, and Talia had her head lifted up to his with a smile on her face. They were honestly some of the sweetest people I'd ever met, and while I'd been leery of them first, I didn't know what I'd have done without them. They'd saved me-helped me escape without even realizing it.

I finished that drawing and then I couldn't help but do another of Liam.

And another.

I was like a f.u.c.king junkie.

"Is that me?"

I jumped, clutching the sketchpad to my chest and looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun. It was only beginning to go down, and it haloed behind Liam, casting him in shadow. I couldn't see his face to read his expression, but knowing him, it was twisted in a scowl.

"It's a person," I stated blandly.

"It looks a lot like me."

He set his surfboard down on the sand a few feet away and strolled over, moving like an animal stalking its prey, and lowered to the ground beside me. He was wearing a pair of white swim shorts, and his chest was bare, glistening with droplets of water. His hair was wet too, the strands pushed away from his face like he couldn't stand to have it falling in his eyes.

"Just admit you're obsessed with me; most people are." He grinned as he sat down.

I rolled my eyes. "Does your ego have no depths?"

"None." His smile grew bigger and he b.u.mped his wet shoulder against mine. "Let me see." He grabbed playfully for the sketchbook.

I watched him in awe. I still wasn't used to that Liam, but something told me I was finally beginning to see the true him.

I clutched the sketchbook tighter. "No, it's private."

"Like a diary?" His brows furrowed, but he didn't let go.

"Yes, like a diary."

"All the more reason to let me see." He winked, and with one yank pulled the sketchbook from my arms.

"Liam," I cried, jumping at him.

He fell back into the gra.s.s with me on top of him, and the sketchbook fell to the side.

"Easy, Tiger."