Page 31 of Dirty Monsters
He wrinkled an eyebrow. “Ahhh…”
“What’s that mean?”
“I think we found who you’re trying to forget.” He was half-right, and it seemed easier to let him think Ro was the sole purpose of my issues.
“He’s a fucking asshole.”
“He’s a cocky prick, no denying it. Dude’s fucked up, though, so I cut him some slack.”
“How so?” I asked, genuinely curious and hoping he would give me some insight.
“Sick and twisted childhood, shithole brother. You name it. He’s my boy, but he’s not exactly normal.”
“So he’s always been a closed-off asshole?”
“Ever since I’ve known him. Although I have only heard the stories. We would lay out on our boards, and he’d start rambling off on the reasons he wouldn’t take a hit with me. His past seemed like more fun. The guy I know personally is a Mr. Goody Two-shoes nurse.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true.
“So what’s your name?” I finally remembered to ask.
“The name’s Lip.”
I held out my hand. “Well, Lip, I’m Wren. And I am way more fun than Ro.” I left the suggestion dripping from my tongue.
Tonight, I wouldn’t be alone for the first time in weeks and smiled, thinking about it. I hated being alone, and I desperately wanted to be someone else for one night.
I didn’t want to think about Ro. I didn’t want to think about responsibilities or my life. I wanted one night to get lost in someone or something else away from Beachside.
Consequences be damned.
No one would notice I’d left until bedtime check-in. Even then, they still wouldn’t even care. There was no one there this late to care about the reckless decisions I made.
Not even the consequence of being kicked out of rehab turned me away from Lip.
His eyes grew wide as I waited for his answer. “You sure about this? Let’s be clear, I’m not gonna be around for long. I’m not the relationship type.”
My smile grew. “Perfect, ’cause I’m not in the mood for a relationship, just some fucking. Think you can handle all this?”
“Oh baby, I can handle whatever you throw my way.” His smirk backed up his words, and I believed each one of them. I watched as he pulled a joint from the backpack. “Wanna get baked first?”
“Hell yes.” I breathed a silent sigh of relief when he chose the lesser of all the evils in his bag and settled in for a fun night.
We sat around the bonfire, laughing and joking with the rest of his friends. They lived down here year-round—Florida natives. Most of them worked at a tattoo shop down the way called Tattered Designs, but they also all had side hustles. I learned it was where Lip originally met Ro, and they started surfing together.
I’d expected the girls of the group to be bitches, but they were all really chill. Maybe it’s what happened when smokers hung out together. The weed mellowed them out.
I was blissfully blazed about thirty minutes later. I had the giggles like a nutcase, a little sign of my lack of smoking anytime recently. Lip didn’t seem to mind as his lips curved into a smile whenever his eyes found mine.
His eyes held promises about the next couple of hours I wanted to get to instead of staying here. He must’ve read my mind when he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You wanna get out of here?”
“Fuck yes.”
I followed him to the beach parking lot and over to a bike. “Wait, you drive a motorcycle?”
“Yep. You scared?”
“Fuck no.” I scoffed.