Page 52 of Dirty Monsters

“Have you seen Nick yet? The newest resident at Orange House. Mmm, homeboy is so scrumptious I could eat him up.”

“Tell me everything.” I leaned over, chin in my hands as I listened to him talk about Nick. His sun-kissed skin and washboard abs. His cheek dimples when he smiled.

“And he’s totally gay. I definitely get those kinds of vibes from him.”

I curled an eyebrow and grinned. “You gonna take a crack at it?”

He smacked his lips together, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I’m not sure.”

I patted him on the shoulder and laughed. “Right. You are sure, and you know exactly what you are going to do.”

He elbowed me and nodded his head so I’d scan across the room. “There he is.”

My eyes turned to where he nodded, and I could see what he meant. It was something in the way he walked or how he smiled and giggled with people he passed. Something was a little fun about him too, and when his eyes met Shawn’s, he winked.

“Girllllll, did you see that? He winked at me. Oh, it’s on.”

“See… go for it.”

“Maybe I will.” He rose from his seat but paused halfway. “You’ll be okay here while I’m over there?”

“Yeah, I think I can manage.” I watched as he stood and walked over to where Nick stood talking to some of the other people in the house. They immediately started chatting and hitting it off. If only my life could be so easy.

Then, with that same uneasy feeling I always had, I felt him before I saw him. My eyes drifted to him automatically, and I waited to see what he’d do. Would he smile, wave? No, surely he wouldn’t. It wasn’t a normal action. Instead, he set me with his regular stare, only his lip tipped up slightly on the corner. Was it an attempt at a grin? I wasn’t sure, but I can’t say I didn’t like it.

He walked toward me and dropped a piece of paper, no doubt holding our agenda for the day, and kept rolling.

I reached over and opened the paper to two little words. “Your choice.”

* * *

A few hours later, I made my way to the beach.

I was in my tiniest bikini, a cover-up, a sun hat, and sunglasses. I seemed like any ole tourist who had hit the beach for a morning stroll. Little did everyone else know, I was not interested in the beach for its relaxing appeal. I was there to fuck shit up.

Luckily, this time, Ro was on my side.

He gave me the option to meet him by the stables or meet him on the beach. He didn’t ask which one I would choose before walking off, and I had no way of telling him. So, we were both playing a game of “Are we on the same page?” And judging by the hot and tatted-up surfer I saw riding a big morning wave toward the shore, I think we were on the same page.

I walked down closer to where I saw Ro’s stuff discarded on the sand and watched as he once again paddled with his arms and set himself up for the next wave. Watching him surf was something straight out of my own porn magazine. The way his arms were solid, his focus on the water, the way he popped his body up onto his feet and controlled the board below him like he was born with it attached to his feet.

My mind started to wander a little to what kind of life Ro had these past ten years. Where did he live? Was he okay? How did he end up in Florida?

Those questions led me to wonder how crazy it was I ended up in Florida, in his path. How he was a monster but also somehow my cure. It wasn't fair to lean on him to fix me, and it wasn't healthy, but it was my ticket out of this place. So before I met with Lisa later for our little update meeting, I needed to maximize my time with Ro.

Soak in whatever I could.

One last wave and Ro noticed me standing on the shore. He rode his final wave until it broke and jumped off his board, grabbing it and walking it to shore. Much like the night before, he tossed it aside and kept walking. The difference was, he barely acknowledged me. He didn’t even smile. His eyes cut to mine, his glare sank deeper, and he simply kept walking.

Confused and a little hurt, I started to turn and head back into the house. Maybe I made the wrong choice. Maybe he was hoping I chose the stables. But fuck, he wasn’t at the stables, and what the hell would be the point in being there…

Then it hit me, and I turned to watch him walk away. Water was dripping down his body, and he was kicking up sand as he stomped toward the dunes. The dips of his lower back were calling to me as his bathing suit pulled down lower with the weight of the water soaking them.

Once his right hand trailed up and through his wet hair, I was in motion. Following his footprints to where I knew he was headed—the shack. Our little hideaway no one knew to find us in. The stables were busy, and people were there tending to the horses nonstop. The beach was empty, with a private place to hide.

I chose right. I was exactly where he wanted me to be. And in the daylight, with the possibility of eyes following us from the house, Ro was playing his part.

So I played mine too.