Brazen Girl: Brazen Series Book 3 Read online

  “The producers had cameras hidden throughout the house that we didn’t know about. Or maybe Camila did. She probably did, actually.”

  Beck’s hands are in fists. “Shit, I’m not explaining this well.”

  I’m finding it hard to breathe, not in the panic attack way, but in the way that if I take a breath, I might realize what he’s trying to tell me and it will break my heart.

  “Remember how I said a couple of girls had come on to me and I figured they’d show that footage and try to make it look worse?”

  I think I nod, because he continues. “Of course you remember. Well, Camila Gonzales was one of those girls. I didn’t tell you the rest because I didn’t think you needed to know.”

  I force myself to breathe because he’s taking too long and I don’t want to pass out. The sharp pain in my chest that hits me when I take a deep breath isn’t a surprise, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

  “I’m sorry, fuck, I suck at this. Basically, she was propositioning me every day, whispering where to meet her, passing me notes, brushing by me as I came out of the shower to offer to follow me back to my room.”

  “Okay,” I finally croak out. “Spit it out, Beck. What happened?”

  “Nothing! That’s the thing. It was obnoxious and I didn’t make a big deal about it or talk about it on camera because I didn’t want to draw attention to it. I just endured it and figured she’d only really tried anything on camera once. The rest was just her saying shit really, a little in my personal space, but nothing too bad.”

  I wait, not sure what to make of any of this.

  “If I’d known they were filming all those little encounters and waiting to drop a bomb, I might have handled it differently, pushed her away more aggressively.”

  “Beck, you’re killing me here. I’m lost. Remember I haven’t watched any of these episodes?”

  Beck takes two long strides and captures my face in his hands. “You trust me, right?”

  “Yeah, I do. I trust you, Beck. Just tell me what happened.”

  “I did. That’s it.”

  “They showed film of her telling you to meet her places and passing you notes?” I don’t hide my confusion.

  “The way they showed it made it look like we were having an affair all along. I think they were looking for some explanation about why I never hooked up with anyone. After all, I was on the show longer than any other guy since I made it to the finals. They needed some drama from me, and they weren’t getting it.”

  “That doesn’t sound too terrible,” I say hopefully, my voice a little shaky.

  “And there was footage of her coming in my room at night. It looked like our last night there, when it was just the two of us left on the show.”

  “Did she come in your room that night?”

  “If she did, I wasn’t aware of it.”

  His hands drop to my shoulders.

  I’m starting to be able to breathe again normally and I find myself letting out a noise that kind of sounds like a laugh. “And Griff thought he had to be scared about a stalker standing over his bed with a butcher knife.”

  Beck’s not quite ready to laugh with me yet. “It looked really bad. The other stuff I gave you a heads up about, someone watching could reach their own decision about whether it went anywhere. But this? Even my mom seemed to think it really happened until I told her otherwise.”

  I sigh, hating how tormented Beck is over this. “Well, Camila Gonzales really is sexy, Beck, even I can see that. So I get it.”

  He frowns. “Get what?”

  “Why they wanted to make it look like the two hottest people on the show were getting it on.”

  “We weren’t, though, you know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  “Really? You just believe me?”

  “Yeah, Beck. I haven’t seen the footage yet, so if there’s actually a scene of you two, uh, you know, naked in bed together, I might have to change my mind. But if it’s as you say, I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “We should watch it together. Or you can watch it by yourself if you’d rather do that. But I’d rather be with you so you can ask me any questions.”

  “Beck, I’m not going to watch it to check if you’re lying or not. But I am going to watch the entire season. I don’t really want to, but I think I should.”

  Beck tilts his head a little like he’s not following me.

  “I should watch it so I’m not caught off guard like I was this morning. If, or when, I go back on social media, I need to know what kind of things people have been saying so I’m prepared. If or when I compete again, I need to know all the things that happened on Shred Live, or didn’t happen, or what the viewers saw. I need to be able to handle myself when the insults come, or the challenges, or whatever.”

  Beck looks at me for a long moment. “You don’t have to watch that shit if you don’t want to. I can tell you what you need to know.”

  “I need to watch it, Beck. It’s not to fact-check your story, I promise. I just don’t want to be in the dark. I don’t want to hide anymore, and that means I need to be ready for whatever the public is saying or thinking.”

  Beck’s hands drop to pull me to his chest in a hug. I don’t know if it’s relief or what exactly, but the emotion pouring from him is heavy.

  “You’re so strong, Jordan,” he finally whispers. “I’m in awe of you.”

  Okay, that wasn’t what I was expecting.

  “Come on, let me change so we can hit up a park before my interviews.”

  “You still want to go to a park today after what I told you?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got to face everyone sooner or later, right?”

  Beck shakes his head as I drop my towel and slide on a pair of underwear.

  “Okay, if you’re serious about this then you can’t walk around in front of me naked.”

  “That’s your problem. I texted you this morning with my plan. You subjected yourself to this when you came up to my room.”

  “I thought we’d be having a big fight and there’d be crying, maybe then we’d need to have make-up sex. I mean that was best case scenario.”

  “No, Beck.” I glance over my shoulder as I pull on a sports bra. “This is best case scenario. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’d be pushing it if I still wanted make-up sex even though we didn’t fight?”

  “We’re going to fight soon if you don’t decide which park we’re going to in the next five minutes and then go downstairs and get breakfast ready for me so we can get moving.”

  He hesitates a second so I add, “But if we do fight over that, there won’t be make-up sex afterward because I’ll have to find someone else to take me skateboarding.”

  Beck lets out a low whistle but he follows my orders. Five minutes later, a toasted bagel with cream cheese is sitting on the counter waiting for me with a banana and glass of orange juice. I can hear my roommates around the house, probably getting ready to go to work. Sydney must have left.

  “You mentioned you might want to compete again, but you didn’t mention going back on social media until just now. Why would you want to do that?”

  “I know it’s a long shot, and probably sounds stupid, but if there’s a chance down the road of getting a pro deal I’ll need to have an online presence. I can’t avoid it forever if I really do want to be a pro skater.”

  Beck places his elbows on the counter and leans forward, studying me as I eat my bagel. “You really want to compete and be a pro? You’re not just saying it because you feel like you have to prove something or… okay, that’s not what I mean. I just want you to do it for you, because you want to. Because it makes you happy. Not for me, or the haters, or anyone else.”

  This time, I can tell him honestly, “I want to do it for me. I thought I could be happy going back to doing my own thing, being on my own. I didn’t even mind so much being the fifth wheel with my friends back home,” I say with a smile. “It gave me an excuse to do
my own thing, which is what I thought I wanted. But I missed this. I missed you, obviously. But I missed all of it. That energy from competing. The extra momentum to stick a new trick or get a clean landing when I ride in the park. It gave me a sense of purpose I hadn’t had before. And I want it back.” It’s hard to put into words, but Beck nods as I speak, and I think he gets it. If anyone would, it’d be him.

  “Good, because Griff’s dying to have you back as his female brand rep.”

  That has me putting the bagel down and glaring at him. “Don’t do that, Beck.”

  He blinks. “Huh?”

  “Don’t patronize me. I need to earn a pro deal. Brazen’s huge now. They don’t need me. Griff does not need to do me any favors after I quit on him right before the launch.”

  “He’s not. Just last night we talked about this. All the girls from Shred Live are super hot right now. Hot in terms of good brand rep material,” he adds quickly. “But they aren’t who he wants. Believe me, once you watch the show you’ll see why.”

  “Now this I’m having more trouble taking your word about.” I eye him suspiciously. “What about Brie? I thought she was moving here and working for Brazen now.”

  “Yeah, she’s our best choice right now. Brazen’s sponsoring her and she’ll be helping with marketing, but she’s not as good as you, Jordan. She’s awesome and we love her but she’s not top in the world.”

  “Um, I’m not top in the world either, Beck. Not even close.”

  “Yeah, but you can be. You will be.”

  “Your confidence in me is a little biased.”

  “You trust everything I tell you about Shred Live, but you won’t trust the world champion when he says you’ve got potential to be the best in the world too? Think about that, Hotshot.”

  “Hotshot?”

  “Yeah. I’m fired up right now. You can’t tell me you want this and not let me get fired up. Hurry up and finish that. We’ll call Griff in the car. When you hear his reaction, you’ll know I’m not the only one who believes in you.”

  “Man, I have a lot of work to do to get there.”

  “Technically, I don’t get the keys to the new house in Jay Beach until next week. But we can hit up the park in the backyard today if you cancel your afternoon interviews?”

  “Just the two of us? No one else will be around?”

  “Nope.”

  “No cameras?”

  “If there are any cameras still on that property, we can destroy them together.”

  “I guess that’s good enough for me. Actually, see if Griff can come. That way he can help us break in if we need to, and then help us find and destroy any cameras.”

  As I put my dishes in the sink and turn to head out, I feel Beck loop his fingers in my pockets. He pulls me to him and I turn around in his arms.

  “I know we don’t need to have make-up sex. But can I get a kiss?”

  “You can stop asking every time you want to kiss me, Beck.”

  He’s smiling when his lips find mine, and we only pull apart when we hear cheering from the top of the stairs. My roommates are spying on us through the rails on the second floor.

  “Get the popcorn!” Zora shouts. “This is way better than Shred Live!”

  “I think I’m going to start crying,” Ellie wails.

  “Don’t forget your skateboard!” Lucy calls.

  Beck takes my hand and pulls me out the door, grabbing my skateboard from beside the door as we go. We wave good bye, and as soon as the door shuts behind us he murmurs, “Does this mean they won’t get too mad if I try to convince you to move into the Jay Beach house with me?”

  “One step at a time, buddy. I still need to watch those episodes.” I quickly realize that it’s too soon to tease him about that, so I add, “I mean, if you had to endure all that while filming, I guess I can endure watching the condensed version. But I might need to recover from PTSD before sleeping at the house.”

  Beck shivers. “Me too. We can go to therapy together.”

  “I think the skatepark will be my therapy.”

  He throws an arm around me. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beck

  “You’re not going to answer?” Jordan asks as I silence the call from my dad.

  “No, we’re here.” Jordan’s never been to Jay Beach and as I turn onto the main drive, she takes it in.

  “This is cute. I didn’t know there were cute places like this in southern California.”

  “We might not have the old New England charm you’ve got in Connecticut, but we’ve got some character.”

  Griffin is standing on the sidewalk and he waves as we pull into an empty spot. We talked to him on the way over and he told us we could meet him at the space he’s thinking about leasing for Brazen’s first shop and offices.

  “I still can’t believe you’re putting off skateboarding to tour a building but wouldn’t do it for a quickie,” I grumble.

  She pats my knee. “Poor Beck. So deprived. Also, that was before I cancelled my interviews this afternoon. Now I have the entire day free. So, if there’s another opportunity…” She trails off.

  “Now you tell me,” I complain. I’m only teasing, but the call from my dad has put a little damper on my good mood.

  Griff on the other hand is lit up. He greets Jordan with a giant hug even though he just saw her yesterday. “I know it’s not a done deal, but I’m damn happy this might happen again. For both of us. It felt so shitty the way things ended.” I know he’s talking about Brazen but I bristle a little anyway. What can I say? I’m a sensitive asshole when it comes to Jordan.

  “Me too. This time I’m not considering it as a ploy to get closer to Beck either,” she teases, glancing at me. “He’s stuck with me whether I go pro or never touch a skateboard again my life,” she says so lightly, I almost miss the gravity of her words.

  My phone alerts me to a voicemail. Dad calls every couple of weeks but rarely leaves a message. When I slide the phone out and click on the voicemail to translate to text, I’m expecting something like “Stop ignoring your old man, let’s meet up.” But instead I see the word “divorce.”

  “Oh shit. I need to listen to this,” I tell Griff and Jordan.

  Putting the phone to my ear, I pace in the opposite direction.

  “I know you’ve been busy filming, traveling and competing. But I thought I should let you know Skye and I are getting a divorce. Give me a call and when you’re back in town, we can get together to catch up.”

  He doesn’t sound too beat up about it, but I call him back anyway. With the exception of a couple of quick calls letting him know I’m filming or about to get on a plane, I haven’t really spoken to Dad since the wedding. I’ve had plenty of other excuses not to see him, but the truth is I just don’t know that I want to play this game with him anymore. Because that’s what it feels like we’ve been doing all these years. Playing our parts, not fostering or building a relationship.

  “Beck, you back in the States?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I got your message. You’re getting a divorce?”

  He sighs. “Yes. It was a mutual decision. She wanted kids and I didn’t. There’s a prenup so it won’t be messy.”

  “You didn’t talk about kids before you got married?”

  “Oh you know, we were so caught up and it all happened so fast. The topic of kids came up, but I think we both thought we’d change the other’s mind once we got married.”

  “Wow.” He’s so dismissive, so callous about it. I didn’t know my dad still had the ability to rattle me, though I shouldn’t be surprised he can still disappoint me more than anyone else.

  “Yeah, I tried to explain how much it would change her life, but she doesn’t seem to understand. She only thinks of the Instagram side of parenting. She likes the idea of cute baby clothes. But it’s a lot of work. A lot of responsibility. It will change your life forever if you have kids, and not all of those changes are warm and fuzzy ones.”


  I stop mid-stride, frozen in shock. Is this man really my father? I knew he was shallow, but the words spewing from his mouth, to his only child no less, are asinine.

  “Yeah Dad, raising kids is a lot of responsibility,” I manage to say.

  “They’ll change your life, and Skye wants to travel, go out to events, be free and unburdened. Of course we’d have a nanny, but I still don’t think Skye understands that she won’t be able to live the life she wants. Raising children isn’t for everyone, and I’m much too old for it myself.”

  It’s true that raising kids isn’t for everyone, that is certainly something I can agree with. The very man talking to me right now is one of those people. So why am I still trying with him? Why did I call him? Why am I listening to this?

  When I don’t respond, Dad changes the subject. “Congratulations on winning the competition on the reality television show. I want to hear all about it. When can we meet up for dinner?”

  Vaguely, I wonder if this would be a rare opportunity to see him without his latest fling. But then again, he’s probably already zeroed in on his next conquest.

  “You know, I’m pretty busy. The last time I saw you I asked you not to post pictures of me or my date. And both your soon-to-be ex-wife and her bridesmaid, who have huge followings, posted pictures of us. I don’t really need any more drama in my life right now.” It’s something I haven’t even bothered to bring up since it happened. For some reason, I need him to know his actions, or inactions, actually affect me. Maybe that’s too much of a burden for him. Maybe it’s not warm and fluffy. But it’s the truth.

  I have an entire life with people I care about, and it’s time to admit he isn’t one of them. I’ve given him that chance. Over and over again. And he keeps failing me.

  “You don’t want to have dinner with me because you think I’ll post pictures of it on the internet? Skye won’t be there, you know. I just told you we’re getting a divorce.”