Ripped - Cassia Leo Page 0,11

new Asian fusion hole-in-the-wall down the street—but we’ve never gone to a nice restaurant like Surf House without Lindsay and Yuri. I’m not sure what prompted her to ask me to go there, but I’m sure it was probably just the first restaurant that popped into her head. She knows how much I love that place.

I nod as I pick up both boards and she grabs Dioji’s leash so we can start heading back to the truck. “Yeah, let’s do Surf House.” I glance down at my sand-covered feet. “They’ll make us sit out on the patio, but that’s fine by me.”

“The weather’s perfect for outside dining,” Lena says, taking the words out of my mouth.

Once my surfboards are in the back of the truck and I’ve brushed as much sand as I can off my feet, I hop into the driver’s seat. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand as I’m about to put it in the cup holder. I look at the screen and my heart races a little when I see the caller ID: BAE-BAE.

“What’s up, baby?” I say, glancing at Lena, but she’s staring out the passenger window.

“Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago to meet the electrician. I don’t know what to tell him.”

“Fuck!” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. It totally slipped my mind. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“You’re still at the beach?”

“We’re just leaving,” I reply. I don’t dare admit that I was about to go to dinner with Lena. “I have to drop Lena off and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

She sighs. “I’ll try to keep him here, but he’s already super annoyed.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “You’d think he’d be honored just to be standing in Adam Fucking Parker’s house.”

I laugh, but just the way she says this makes my stomach flip. “I love you, bae.”

“Love you more. Now hurry up and get your butt over here. If this guy doesn’t fix the wiring issue in Mila’s room, she’ll have to sleep with us again tonight. And I’m in the mood, if you know what I mean.”

I can just imagine her wiggling her eyebrows. God, I love that woman.

I want to talk dirty to her, to get her even more in the mood, but I can’t do that in front of Lena. “I’ll be there soon.”

I end the call feeling both excited and a bit guilty that I was about to miss the electrician and possibly hurt Lindsay’s feelings by having dinner with Lena at Surf House. It’s not as if there’s anything between Lena and me, but there are subtle rules and blurry lines that can be crossed in a marriage. Now that I’ve spoken to Lindsay, I’m pretty certain she just saved me from crossing that line.

Four

I wake with my heart racing. This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, and I know exactly what brought it on: the prospect of having my last win taken away from me by the judges rescoring the Tahiti semifinal. Even the sight of Mila and Lindsay snuggled peacefully in the bed next to me does nothing to calm my nerves. I brush the hair away from Mila’s face and kiss her forehead, but it’s Lindsay who opens her eyes.

“You have a text message,” she says groggily. “I heard your phone go off a few minutes ago.”

She wraps her arm around Mila and closes her eyes, seemingly falling back to sleep within seconds. I turn over and retrieve the phone from the top of the bedside table, only to find it’s 6:23 a.m. and I have six new text messages. This has to be about the Tahiti scores.

I tiptoe into the bathroom to take my morning piss while I check the messages. One is from Lena and the other five are from Hank Langley, one of the five judges at the Tahiti event. I check Hank’s messages first, starting with his fifth text, and my heart sinks like a stone.

Hank: Sorry about the adjustment. I strongly believe you’ll still pull this one out.

I don’t have to read the other four messages from Hank to know what they’re about. I read Lena’s message next and I actually manage a smile.

Lena: Fuck Hank. Fuck Carlos. Fuck them all. You’re still #1 and no one can stop you. See you at 8.

Judging by both of those text messages, I guess that Carlos Ferreira moved within striking distance of me in the CT rankings,