Chapter 7

Out of all places in Manhattan Beach, she lives next door.

Gabriella.

The name has a beautiful ring to it, nothing like the vomiting beast I came across last night. It’s such a shame her entitled attitude overshadows anything beautiful about her.

Gabriella strolled in carrying a fruit basket, dressed in a pair of white shorts with this strappy green top. Her tits bounced around in it which made it impossible to ignore her.

And then there’s the hair.

The long, untamed curls cascading down her back and against her skin. I’ve never been one to care about women’s hairstyles, yet something about hers fascinates me.

Despite the previous night’s shenanigans, she could have fared a lot worse. I’m surprised she managed to get out of bed, given how intoxicated she was.

The moment our eyes met, her mouth fell open in shock, followed by a stiffened posture as she froze on the spot. I thought it was all bloody hilarious. Out of all fucking places, she is Sebastian and Lana’s neighbor.

At least I can vouch that I didn’t make a complete fool out of myself last night. I’d had a few beers but would hardly call myself drunk. Far from it. Gabriella, on the other hand, I’d hate to be in her shoes.

“I should probably head back home,” Gabriella announces while purposely avoiding any eye contact with me. “I’ve got a few things I need to do.”

“Are you sure? We’re about to bring out Monopoly,” Lana informs her.

I hold back my laughter. So married life does mean playing board games.

“You mustn’t leave Prince Charming waiting. After all, you did reject his call,” I remind her with a smirk.

Her eyes dash to mine. “I didn’t reject his call. It stopped ringing. Anyways, why do you care what I do?”

I don’t care, though something irked me when his name flashed on the screen.

After a rather tense lunch and her blatantly ignoring me after I mentioned the call, she leaves only for Seb to remind her of the the double date. Lana corrected him once again, calling it a group outing.

It doesn’t bother me either way. These days, I have nothing better to do than wallow in self-pity, but then the Prince Charming thing changed the whole game plan.

The game plan now—I don’t give a shit either way.

Gabriella is gorgeous despite her wild and unruly behavior last night, but something about knowing a woman is on a ‘break’ makes it all the more intriguing. Seb mentioned it after Gabriella left. I asked for more information, but Seb quickly changed the subject when Lana walked back outside.

Fucking admit it—you’re playing cat to her mouse.

I busied myself over the next few days by attending specialist appointments for my shoulder and checking out potential houses with a broker should I consider moving here one day. It’s always been a dream of mine to buy something small by the beach and jet back and forth from here to Australia, so I can experience the best of both worlds.

Nothing piqued my interest. My head just wasn’t in it, and I hated to admit I’ve earned my stalker badge and tried to purposely run into Gabriella again.

Occasionally, when in the backyard, I hear classical music filter through. Odd, considering it doesn’t match the girl in the Irish pub dancing to nineties pop bands.

Seb is of no further help. He doesn’t know that much about her, referring me to Lana. I know better than to ask Lana. I’ve only been under their roof for less than a week, and in that time, she’s tried to set me up with numerous women.

Another neighbor down the road.

A single mother at Ace’s playgroup.

And other random girls she used to work with.

Time drags, but Saturday morning rolls around, and at eight on the dot, Seb yells out from the driver’s seat for Lana to get her butt in the car if she knows what’s good for her.

“Honestly, women.” He exhales, honking the horn. “I managed to get Ace in the car. What else is there?”

I don’t want to tell him Lana’s busy packing everything else, especially since she’s already had a packing meltdown earlier in the day.

“So, you and Gabbie…” Seb teases with a grin. “You hooked up yet?”

Shrugging it off, I stare out the window. “Nah, mate. She looks too high maintenance for me. Besides, I have a few appointments with specialists this week, so I think it’s best I focus on that.”

“Good idea.” Seb nods in agreement. “You’ve always been determined. Don’t let no pussy get in the way.”

Lana and Gabriella are standing outside the car. Lana is making a checklist, going over everything Ace needs while Gabriella checks inside the large striped beach bag. I have no clue what they’re called, but the sheer white dress she’s wearing over her bikini looks like a muumuu. Lana’s wearing something similar. They must have done the girl thing and coordinated.

“Towels,” Lana asks.

“Check.”

“Binky?”

“Check.”

“Sunscreen?”

“Check.”

“Am I forgetting anything?”

“Yeah, you forgot to get into the car. Hurry up, woman, we’re gonna struggle for parking if we don’t leave right now.”

I turn to watch Gabriella, enjoying the fact she still chooses to ignore me.

Oh, this shall be fun. You’ve already crawled under her skin and caused damage. Let’s make it ten times worse.

Seb suggests I sit in the front seat with him. As I get into the minivan, I see Bubbles watching me from the window. We had an almost altercation in the bathroom this week. Bubbles was inside, and I needed to pee. He didn’t move. I asked him kindly for privacy, then got the death stare with his red eyes.

Fucking rabbit.

We packed into Seb and Lana’s red minivan, driving over to Newport Beach. Seb was right, parking is a goddamn nightmare, but we manage to score a spot without having to walk too far.

I exit the car, stretching my arms and legs from the drive over. On one side, there are oceanfront mansions and a yacht-lined harbor. On the other side, there are a bunch of historic cottages, dive bars, and a string of eateries.

The day is nice with blue sky and a warm summer ocean breeze. It feels a lot like back home in Sydney. Bondi Beach is one of my usual hangouts, and something about this place reminds me of home.

“Remind you of home?” Seb asks, resting his arm on my shoulder.

I take it all in, ignoring the homesick feeling threatening to consume me. “Sure does.”

We begin to unload the van. Seb is carrying Ace plus a bunch of stuff, which I grab off him. Lana is carrying a bag of toys for Ace and beach towels. Given how busy it is already, we manage to find a suitable spot that isn’t overcrowded just yet.

There is a stage a few feet away holding some entertainment as well as the trophies for the upcoming surf competition.

People arrive in droves, all settling around us. The music is blaring, and girls are stripping down to barely nothing. These girls are relentless, all laughing and chugging beer and dancing around with their tits bobbing in their tiny bikinis. Wherever I look, there’s arse in a G-banger or as the Americans love to call them, thongs.

Gabriella had sat as far away from me as possible, behind the bags and stuff Lana packed. Still dressed in her muumuu and shorts, the heat proves too much for her, forcing her to remove them. Resting on my elbows with only my swim shorts and sunglasses on to protect myself from the harsh rays, I pretend not to notice she has taken off the muumuu. Beneath it, she’s wearing a rather modest one-piece khaki swimsuit with this zig-zag thing happening near her tits.

Don’t fucking look. These shorts are the worst for displaying your hard-on.

The sand is softly golden with just the right comforting warmth. I’m enjoying myself and the views until a hoard of girls stop in our section.

With Ace attracting all the attention because, according to girls, he is literally the cutest kid ever, Lana took the opportunity to introduce me as the Aussie thunder from Down Under in her godawful Aussie accent. I motion for Seb to control his woman.

“Babe, let’s take Ace for ice cream.”

Lana sighs, slightly annoyed. “Fine! Will you guys be okay?”

I nod at the same time Gabriella smiles.

With them gone, I prop myself up on an elbow and turn to face Gabriella. She’s lying on her stomach, arse in full view, oblivious to my longing stare. So what if it has the perfect curves—a nice palm would look good slapped against it leaving a pink mark.

Fuck—cool the arse talk.

“Hey, I’m sorry for whatever happened that night for you to hate me so much,” I blurt out, wanting an end to the awkward tension between us.

“I don’t hate you,” she says, remaining still. “Hate is such a strong word.”

“Well, upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me.” Gabriella lifts her head, and behind her sunglasses, I can see her eyes staring back at me. “I was already upset with myself, so whether it was you or someone else, I would have still been upset.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Okay, but you were not fine that night despite your reluctance to admit it.”

“No, I was not,” she admits.

“Does Prince Charming know you’re not fine?”

“Prince Charming?” It takes her a moment to register. Propping herself up on her elbows, she removes her glasses with a satisfied smirk. “It seems to bug you… the sentiment.”

I flip a strand of hair out of my face, blowing out a nosy breath in my defense. “It doesn’t bug me. You were willing to take me home, yet somewhere roaming these streets is Prince Charming.”

She rolls onto her side, flicking her hair back while checking her tan line beneath her strap.

“His name is Nicholas. The Prince Charming name is kind of a joke between us. We’re not together together. We’re on a break of some sort. So, does that answer all your questions?

“You’re married? Or a separation,” I quiz, trying to understand

“Not quite… engaged. Well, it’s complicated.”

The pang hits me, knocking me hard from a place unknown.

You cannot possibly be jealous of a guy called Prince Charming. Man the fuck up. You don’t even know this chick, so why are you letting her crawl under your skin and affect you like this. Find your balls, Olly.

“Okay, so you’re engaged but on break?”

“I guess, technically,” she replies with uncertainty. I don’t think even she knows what it all means. “Look, I’m here, and he’s back in Colorado. We both agreed to have some time apart so I could come out here. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” I retort. Her dismissive attitude is laughable. “I think you’re missing a big chunk of the equation.”

“Really? Like how you’re an ex-soccer player? Maybe you want to elaborate on that?”

I remain quiet, and it’s as if she has the upper hand and watches me with a curious gaze. There is nothing I want to add, nor any inclination to continue this part of the conversation. If anything, I want to welcome back Lana and her annoying habit of trying to set me up.

“We’re back,” Lana announces with a heavy puff. “Uh, oh. Did you guys get into a fight already?”

“No,” we yell in unison.

Lana raises her hands. “Take it easy, I was just asking a question. Sheesh.”

The surf competition goes on for a few hours. There’s a presentation, medals, and every so often, I wander off to grab a drink or use the bathroom. I’ve met some banging chicks and scored a few numbers, but I don’t feel in the mood to continue partying with them tonight.

Same old bullshit.

“Your accent is so hot.”

“Do you work out?”

A few girls stopped by to chat, and the moment they leave, Gabriella huffs in annoyance.

“Such a player,” she mutters beneath her breath.

“Excuse me?”

Gabriella turns to face me, lips pressed flat with a visible flush in her cheeks.

“I said, you’re such a player. How many numbers have you scored today?”

“Jealous, much?”

“Please. I have my own problems. I just don’t jump into bed with strangers to forgot them.”

“Interesting, because last week, you invited me back to your place,” I remind her with a goading smile. “So, your position is cowgirl, huh?

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Music to my ears, sweetheart.”

It’s late afternoon when we all decide to pack up and call it a day. Thank God, because Gabriella refused to talk or look at me from that point on.

On the ride back home, everyone remains quiet, exhausted from the sun exposure and heat. Even Ace is snoring in the back. I somewhat hate silence—it gives me too much time to think.

When we reach home, I help Seb and Lana unload as Gabriella waves goodbye. She pauses for a moment as if she’s going to say something but decides against it, turning her back to head home.

Inside, Seb calls starvation and orders us some pizza, much to Lana’s disapproval.

An hour later, I answer the door, paying the delivery guy when I glance over and see Gabriella’s house. Placing the boxes on the kitchen countertop, I yell out that I’ll be back in five minutes, slipping my sneakers on before walking outside.

I knock on her door, unsure why I feel compelled to see her. Moments later, the porch light flashes on, and behind the glass window, I see Gabriella’s face peeking through. Her confused expression pulls away as the sound of the locks clicks, and the door is opened.

“I just came to say it wasn’t my decision to be an ex-soccer player,” I mumble, unable to make eye contact with her. “I got… I got in a motorcycle accident and was injured. So there, piece to your puzzle.”

I don’t want her pity. I’ve carried enough of that on my own. I just don’t want any more speculation. She has the facts, and whatever she does with them is now her business.

As I walk away with my back turned, she calls my name. I spin around, stopping just shy of the gate.

“I need to figure out if the life my father has planned for me is the life I’m willing to settle for.” She sighs, slumping her body against the door frame. “So there, the piece to your puzzle.”

It’s not the entire piece, but for tonight, it left me with a glimmer of something. In a world full of fines, we both are not fine. We all have our crosses bearing heavily on our souls, but sometimes, there’s this unexplainable presence of someone who makes life worth living again.

Like a breath of fresh fucking air.

I walk back home, unable to stop thinking about Gabriella. She has an unusual predicament of being controlled by her father. Honestly, it’s like something out of a 1950s movie. I had questions, lots of them. But there would be a time and a place when the puzzle would make a complete picture.

Sitting on the lounge surrounded by Seb laughing obnoxiously over some commercial and Lana almost passed out on wine, I scroll through my phone and see the lists of girls’ numbers I collected today.

Not a bad haul,I think.

I could get laid tonight.

Or score a good blowie since it’s been forever.

Yet, only one thing replays in my mind, and it’s the one thing I can’t shake off.

I’m missing her number.

Gabriella Carmichael.

And with that thought consuming me, I know I have to do whatever I can to get it.

Even if it means being the biggest pain in her beautiful arse.