Brazen Girl by Ali Dean Page 0,44

my hips, eliciting a moan from her.

“Keep doing that,” she encourages.

And I do. She should know by now I’ll do anything she asks.

Jordan

I can tell Beck’s about to drift off, and for a second I almost let him. But he’s the one who mentioned this secret in the first place so I don’t feel too guilty when I stop him from falling asleep.

“So what’s the secret?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.”

We’re naked in my bed, our legs intertwined and my chest half on his.

“I won Shred Live.”

“Seriously?” I sit up on an elbow and prop myself to look at him.

“Yeah. That’s why I’ve been vague about my plans on looking for a new place. I’ve already got this giant house.”

“Who cares about the house, Beck, I can’t wait to skate the private park.”

He chuckles. “I figured that’s what you’d say.”

“Maybe I can actually get over my fear of crashing, of being filmed crashing, if I can hide out and skate at your private palace.” I try to keep my tone light, but Beck knows me too well.

He strokes my cheek with sleepy eyes. “You’ll get over it, Jordan. Private palace or not, I have no doubt.”

Beck’s eyelids are looking heavy and I decide to hold back my millions of questions for later. “Love you, goodnight Beck.”

“Love you too.”

I’m not surprised Beck won, but it’s the first time I’ve let myself think about what it could mean. No, not the first. The idea that Beck could and likely would become more famous and attract more drama is partly what drove me to end things back in December. Why didn’t I let him pull out of the Shred Live contract like he wanted? I can’t remember my reasons anymore. I’ve since learned that my head injury really could have altered my judgment on all kinds of things, including that, but part of me feels like I never would have been comfortable with Beck changing his plans, big plans at that, for me.

And now here we are. I know I want to be with Beck, and I don’t want to run or hide either. I even know, deep down, I want to compete again too. I want it all. I just have to figure out how to be strong enough to take everything’s that sure to come with it. I’ve been able to play the denial game with myself a lot, but one thing I can’t deny is that there will be voices like the ones that have haunted me, and that sometimes still do.

Chapter Eighteen

Jordan

“You’re really not going to watch the season finale with us tonight?” Lucy asks.

“Why would she? She hasn’t seen any of the other episodes.” Zora is lying on her back on a towel in the sand.

It’s Monday afternoon, a little over a week since Beck got back. We’re at Coby’s place near Riptide skatepark. Well, outside his place on the beach, sunbathing.

“I might watch it with Beck,” I confess.

“Oh yeah,” Ellie says from her spot on my other side. “What does the star of the show do for the season finale anyway? We should have invited him to our viewing party!”

“We’re having a viewing party?” Lucy asks.

“Well, everyone at Coby’s is watching it, plus all of us. Maybe some other people too. So yeah, I’m calling it a viewing party.”

“Nah, he can’t come,” Sydney chimes in. “He already knows what happens. It’d ruin it for the rest of us.”

“Well, he’s watching it at his mom’s house with Griffin and their sisters. I think Moses and Taylor are going too. So I guess they’re having a little viewing party too, even though at least Moses and Beck know what happens. Actually, I’m pretty sure Griff and Taylor know too. But they haven’t told their sisters or parents.”

Beck is planning to move into the house next week with Griffin, Moses, Taylor, and Brie. The contract says he’s sworn to secrecy on what happens, but none of us are exactly holding that contract sacred. In fact, I’d be up for a Shred Live contract burning party after the viewing party.

Ellie sits up suddenly on a gasp. “Wait!” She points a finger at me. “You know what happens, don’t you?”

“Uh, no, not exactly.” I know Beck wins, but I’ve got no clue who even made it to the finals or how everything goes down.

“Don’t tell us!” Lucy sits up just as suddenly from her sunbathing position. “That’s it. You’re uninvited from the viewing party.”

“But I don’t even know –” I start to defend myself but

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