Recklessly (42 page)

“My brother, the sage. Better late than never that we figure this shit out.”

“Anyway, let me get back to my room before Nurse Torture thinks she needs to replenish my energy with more hospital food for this brief journey.” Wes hugged Abel again before he headed for the door. “Hey…thanks for everything this summer, bro. I’m glad you’re who the egg separated into. I…I, um, I—”

“Yeah, yeah…what is it with you and this
Lifetime
shit lately, bro? I, I, I…you, too.” Abel broke into a smile. “And the stuff this summer…you’re my little brother. I would literally die for you.”

“Um, great. Just don’t do it again, please,” Wes said as he walked out, and he didn’t wait until he reached his room before tearing open the envelope and pulling out Lana’s letter. She had also included a painting she’d done of the crude drawing he’d done of her on the beach in Tahiti—minus the breasts.

Dear Wes,

By the time you read this, I hope you’re still reveling in your win at Padang, and I hope it’s awesome. I hope you’ll forgive Charlotte for everything. She’s been really embarrassed and ashamed about the way she treated you before she left. I know a thing or two about that. She’s in rehab. You can’t contact her directly by phone, but the center’s name and address are on the pamphlet in the envelope. Your aunt and uncle know, and Charlotte asked them not to tell you until you got back from Bali. I sold my bike for the initial costs of her treatment. They’re paying for the rest of the weeks, and then I think they’re going to take her back to the East Coast.

I haven’t regretted parting ways with my bike for a moment. Because I did it for you. Wes Elliott, you were my first great love. I know my actions may not have shown it, but it’s true. Falling in love with you was by far one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. I told you on the day I hit you that someday I’d be glad I did, but it wasn’t that night in Death Valley. It was actually the day I hit you. That was the day I was glad.

I still haven’t figured out how to draw you, Wes, but I know exactly how to draw how I felt when I was with you. It was the way you drew me. I need you to know that I did jump with you…but I just didn’t trust that you would catch me. Now I know that you would. You did.

Love always,

Lana

Epilogue

Recklessly: (adverb) \re-kles-ly\ marked by lack of proper caution: careless of consequences

1 Year Later

“
Christian Lamont’s final wave is an eight point one five, with an overall score of nineteen point three six, which means wildcard Wesley Elliott wins the Ridley Pro with an overall nineteen point four,”
came the voice over the loudspeaker, and
Christian slung both arms around Wes, rattling him with enthusiasm.

Thank you, Wes Reverse Roll!
Wes pumped his arms into the air as a crew of surfers rushed him, lifting him onto two guys’ shoulders, and they carried him up to the winner’s podium, as he waved his surfboard and an American flag someone had shoved in his hand. Then as with ritual—but which Wes found to be a terrible waste of alcohol—his friends sprayed him from all sides with champagne after the trophies were handed out, and the contest director made a speech for the ceremony’s closing as he had done with the opening. Microphones were shoved in Wes’ face, and he led the crowd in a “Deuce is wild” cheer while cameras flashed and fans were kissed and sponsors thanked.

It was good to be king again.

As the whirlwind finally began to settle, he walked toward where his friends were waiting in a designated area with cabanas specifically for surfers and their guests. A hand suddenly enclosed his wrist. “Do I still get to call you Deuce?” A familiar voice struck his ear, and tremors ripped down his back when he turned around. She was smiling at him like an entire year hadn’t gone by since they had seen and talked to each other. His brain sifted in every memory of their past, of what he had gained, of what he had lost, and it was paralyzing and overwhelming in the instant.

She was still his little tornado.

“So…what’s the answer? Is it Ace now?” she said, her grin getting larger.

“Holy shit! Lan!” he said finally, jerking her up into a hug. “How? What? Shit! How are you? What are you doing here?” He put her down, needing to stare at her. She had dyed her brown hair to almost black, and cut it to just below her shoulders.
Damn, she looks good.

“I told you I’d be watching you win in Bali, did I not?” she said. “Didn’t you win? Aren’t I here watching?” She leaned up to hug him again. “Congrats, Wes. I’m
so
happy and proud of you.”

His arms fell over her and they continued hugging in silence. Infinitesimal silence. Smell was the strongest sense tied to memory. That was something he’d heard or read once, and in the moment, he believed it. If staring at her had simply awakened the memories, the smell of her hair made him re-live them. The magnitude with which he sensed her everywhere, in everything, had never lessened. The way he missed her? He couldn’t really string it into coherence and describe the feeling. It was just there.

Like heat in the summer.

Cold in the winter.

“Um, well, are you busy right now?” he asked as he slowly untangled from her.

“Nope,” she said with a hopeful smile.

Wes rubbed the back of his head. “Good. Shit. I gotta catch up with the boys. Can we meet in, like, two hours? There’s a café in the Bali Villa Hotel. It’s called something I can’t for the life of me pronounce correctly, and I always feel embarrassed saying it. Anyway, I’ll call you with the exact time. Number still the same?”

“Yup. And I’ll be there…” She waved before she turned and walked away, leaving Wes feeling like he’d just experienced some type of paranormal event. And after drinks with his friends, he was upstairs beating back nervousness.
Sometimes the bad is never bad enough to make you forget the good,
he thought as he slipped into jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers. And he hadn’t forgotten any of the good.

His heart was deep in his stomach as he took the elevator down to the ground floor. She was already seated at a table with a book opened on top when he walked into the café. She had been wearing something casual at the beach, but she was wearing a strapless blue dress, tight and knee-length, now. As he approached, she got on her feet and pulled him into another hug, like it was the first time.

“So, how have you been, Lan? How’s everything? Are you still on the East Coast?” he asked as he slid into the seat across from hers.

“Back in Los Angeles as of two weeks ago, actually. I sort of became
a suit
recently. Only sort of.”

“Really? What are you doing?”

“Still at Bar Method, but I took an assistant position at an
art gallery
in Santa Monica.”

“Really? You’re working with art?”

“So unlike me, right? But for me, isn’t that
kinda
being reckless? Trying out something not temporary? It’s way out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure.” She paused to take a sip of her tea. “How are all your friends? How’s Char? How’s Abe?”

“Char’s great. Clean. Going to meetings. Focused on school. Asks about you all the time.” Wes placed his hand on hers. “I guess this is the first time I really get to thank you in person for what you did. Thank you. Your bike—”

“It was worth it, Wes…and it still is three hundred and sixty-five days later.” She smiled reassuringly. “I had actually already planned to sell it and bid on a first edition of
Wuthering Heights
for you, but it went to a better place. Anyway, I’m saving up to buy another bike really soon.”

“Of course you still want a bike!” Wes said, laughing. “So, Abe’s really good, too. We’ve been helping our mom get settled in her new place.”

She gasped. “Your parents split?”

“Yup. Finally. Thankfully. She crashed with us a few months to get on her feet.”

“Good for her! So I saw in
People
that Kai and Dylan got engaged?”

“Yeah. Another one bit the dust! I always thought she’d choose me! Yeah, they’re great. He wants to get married, like, tomorrow, and she wants to wait and figure out whether she wants to join him on the road, where they’re going to live, if she wants to hyphenate her name. Usual Dylan…crazy. But…I want to talk about you.”

And over small plates, Lana explained that she had been to Moscow once to visit Sadie and the Olins, she hadn’t spoken to Brody Swift in a year, and she and Grayson had moved in together, just the two of them, and she was on the lease this time. After dinner ended, he suggested that they take a walk on the beach before heading over to the contest after-party. The beach was crowded still due to the earlier contest, so he and Lana walked away from the commotion as much as they could.

“How long are you in Bali for?” he asked.

“…Until tomorrow evening.”

“Even with the holiday weekend in the States?”

She smiled. “I came to see what I wanted to see…” Lana raked her fingers through her hair and the tattoo on her left shoulder drew his attention. 

“Wait. What is that?”

“Uh, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but…you seem to have them all over your arm,” she said, poking him in the side, but she kept walking, letting her hair fall back into place.

“Lan. Let me see it.” Wes grabbed her arm, pushed her hair off her shoulder and held it out of the way. There were five lines in a small script and in cursive, stacked on top of each other.

Something flared in his chest that he knew he would never be able to quell as he turned her to face him. Without any prompting from him she said, “To remind me of the one regret I have, and how to never make that mistake ever again.” She pointed her smile to the distance, and her lip was quivering when she turned to face him. “I miss you, Wes. Every day. Every single one. It never gets better. I think about you every day. How we met. How I lost you. It never goes away. And right now I’m standing here, and…I’m feeling too hopeful for my own good because I came on a trip I couldn’t afford determined to walk
to
you and never walk away from you again or hurt you and to just love you without fear…and I wonder if we’re
too
different now to—”

“I never stopped missing you, Lan. Never,” Wes said, shaking his head.

“How?” she asked in a whisper.

“What you and I had was a mess. A passionate, fun, exquisite, crazy mess…from the moment I laid eyes on you. The bad was horrible. It was really, really horrible, and I haven’t forgotten it, but I’m not holding it against you. And the good…”

“It’s all still there?”

“The good parts are still there. For you?”

“Yup.” She laughed.

Wes held her by the shoulders. “So tell me what you want?”

“You, Wes. You. I’m in.” She cradled his face. “I’m in a hundred fucking percent. If you give me a second chance, I will spend the rest of our relationship making everything up to you. I mean that. And it will be a
long
relationship. Please give me the chance to prove it. Let
me
prove I’m worth being permanent.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “If we do this, you only get one, Lan. I forgave you, and I’ve dealt with it, but—”

“One is all I need. I’m not the same girl…” An optimistic look settled on her face.

“But not too different, I hope. I loved a lot about that girl.”

“Okay, same girl, but I just put my living for the moment and thrill seeking where it mattered. Here. With you. Where it always should have been.”

He sighed into a smile. “Well…let’s see how much of the same you are.” Wes smirked. “And if you really mean you’re in…change your flight, Lana.”

“Man, when sexy, tattooed, blondie surfer rekindles, he
rekindles
,” she says as her eyes filled up with tears.

“Girl, change. Your. Flight.”

Lana shook her head. “I already did, Wes. The minute we spoke on the beach.”

“There’s the girl I wanted to be with. And that’s where we’ll start, okay?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Walk with me?” Wes slung his arm around her shoulders and she cuffed his dangling wrist before she leaned against him. Once they were walking again, Wes’ eyes drifted back to her shoulder, back to her tattoo, as the wind pulled her hair into the air.

Drop from the helicopter.

Plummet into the ocean.

Free fall.

Love

Recklessly.

The End

*

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