Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,51
all packaged together and put into an actual person. Huh. I guess it’s not really a great mystery why I feel so incredible in her presence.
Just hope she feels equally wonderful in mine.
Our time back to the shore is actually less argumentative than it was out in the middle of the water. Brooklyn leads the conversation by inquiring our preferred brands on boards, and the safe subject keeps us all on the same side, self, included. We part ways shortly after our arrival, each of them denying brunch for different reasons. Back at my place, we rinse off in the outside shower, make-out for longer than Houndrix appreciates, and travel around to my garage where my boards are kept and loved.
As always, the instant I step inside a sense of serenity seeps into my soul.
Brooklyn is definitely my soulmate, and this is definitely my soul’s on shore sanctuary.
Having the space transformed from an average garage to an insulated workspace was one of the ways I sweetened the attorney agreement I signed. He picked this house, which I don’t hate, by any means, but I don’t necessarily love. It’s not the one I would’ve picked for myself; however, it was the one selected for me, so as the theoretical beggar in the situation, I did what it is they say you can’t. I got choosy. I didn’t sign the contract or the papers to the house until it was guaranteed in writing that this space would become an extra room rather than a garage. True board care – we’re talking waxes, dings, heavy duty surgery, and storage – requires space. Adequate space. Adequate space that’s been modified to keep cooler temperatures to prevent warping, shield them from direct sunlight to prevent board cancer, racks to protect their delicate fins, and a small workshop area to handle the aforementioned nurturing. My father attempted to leave his mark in here by having the room painted a dark steel gray, identical to the one in his home office. It was done to remind me that he did this. That he gave this place to me. That he was responsible for my future, and I should never forget that. Too bad for him that shit was easy to cover up. Between the paint splatters and racks attached to the wall – for tools and boards alike – you can barely see anything else.
It’s almost funny the way my father and I play this bullshit chess game.
Had he just spent a little more time with me when I was younger, he’d know chess is like law to me.
I don’t really like it despite the fact I’m pretty fucking good at it.
Brooklyn wanders over to the counter workspace and hops onto the edge of it to sit. The way she has no problem making herself at home here, matches the one she demonstrates in the rest of the house. She has no qualms about making a late-night snack all on her own if I’m knocked out or tidying up when she notices there’s too much sand on the floor. The cabinet near the Keurig has both her favorite coffees and teas for her to make before work or me to make for her on her way out the door. Her array of swimsuits – work and personal – share laundry cycles and sometimes she’ll even walk Houndrix after dinner whether I feel like joining her or not. She’s comfortable here.
I love that she’s comfortable here.
I never want her to leave…
Probably a little too soon to say that though.
“Got you something,” I casually announce as I stroll over to where the SUPs are kept.
“Was that before or after you received the gift I gave you?” Her chin tips the direction of my new navy and floral pattern boardshorts I’d been waiting to wear until we went out together. “They look good by the way.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. Your ass looks amazing in them.”
Her compliment receives a loud chortle and an arrogant wink over my shoulder.
What can I say?
Love that the woman I love loves my body.
Like, who the fuck hates that?
“Believe it or not it was before you brought home this little surprise.” I carefully put the SUP in place prior to shooting her another look. “Close your eyes.”
Brooklyn shuts them, yet I have no doubt that she can and will sneak a peek.
“Cover them with your hands.”
“Seriously?”
“As serious as a jellyfish sting.”
She wrinkles her nose in silent objection but fulfills the request.
Once I’m certain she can’t see what I’m