Be Your Anything (Hermosa Beach Book 2) Page 2

  My sister Hannah moved in with me at the beginning of the summer. A sweet thing from Phoenix, she left her life behind to try something new. Things were going well—I thought—until she found out I’d been lying to her, withholding a secret that threatened the tentative relationship we’ve been building.

  Thankfully, it seems like she’s forgiven me.

  Well, maybe forgive is a strong word. I know she won’t be forgetting what I did—what Wyatt and I did—any time soon, but at least she’s staying.

  God, I’m so glad she’s staying.

  Truthfully, I haven’t been a very good brother so far. When I first found out about her, back when we were in high school, I pretended she didn’t exist, opting to do what felt easiest for me and my life. Then I contacted her only once I wanted something, though I didn’t tell her that. And when she finally got here, expecting to build a relationship with a brother she never knew…well, I let her down.

  But now I have another chance, thankfully, another opportunity to show her I can be a good big brother and continue to prove to her that she belongs here.

  Just like that time when I was a kid trying to stand up on my board, I don’t give up easily. Having my sister here, living with me…it feels right, and I don’t want to lose that again.

  The happiness she brings to my world.

  The relationship we’re starting to slowly build.

  Learning to surf taught me important lessons about how I should approach the world, and having Hannah here is teaching me about how I should approach relationships and family.

  I’ve never really had that before.

  Now that she’s probably also going to be giving Wyatt a second chance, too, I’ll be learning what it’s like to be a big brother when your sister is dating your friend.

  Now that is a lesson I’m not looking forward to.

  With the summer halfway over and my upcoming training before surf season begins, I know figuring out how to shift my schedule around to make sure she’s a priority is going to start getting complicated.

  I sigh.

  It’s days like today that make me feel like I have no idea how to be an adult, because all I want to do is just keep floating in the ocean instead of paddling in and dealing with the shitstorm I created myself.

  My eyes flit over to where Otto stands alone on the shore near the lifeguard tower.

  I wave to indicate I’m heading in, resigned to the fact that my time in the ocean is done for the day.

  Even though I’d like a little bit longer, just for me, the sun is starting to dip in the sky, and I know Hannah will be back from work soon.

  If I’m going to make changes, it has to start now.

  ____

  “I’m telling you right now, I don’t care who the girl is—I’m never gonna dance like an asshole with my friends just so I can get laid.”

  Hannah bursts into laughter and I follow suit, my stomach still aching from our earlier amusement at the bird mating performances we’ve been watching on Our Planet.

  “Oh, come on,” she says, her hands resting on her middle as she fights to calm herself. “I can so picture you, Wyatt, and Otto dressed in those barbershop quartet outfits and putting on a show.”

  She mimics lifting a boater hat on and off her head a few times as I continue to chuckle and roll my eyes.

  Leaning forward, I grab my empty glass off the coffee table. “Not a chance in hell,” I say, my eyes narrowing in faux displeasure. “I don’t dance. I don’t sing. I don’t put on a show.” I smirk. “Unless you count surfing, because when I’m on the waves, you know it’s entertainment.”

  “I’m calling it now,” she hollers after me as I head into the kitchen. “Someday, you’re gonna use this exact method of song and dance to redeem yourself. Mark my words!”

  I shake my head, refilling my glass with two fingers of the ’66 Dalmore Single Malt Otto gifted to me for my birthday earlier this year. Normally, I only pull out the good stuff for celebrations, but it just sounded perfect today, even if Hannah took a whiff and told me it smells like ass.

  Glancing across the open space, I watch my sister as I take a small sip, the subtle notes of ginger and licorice coating my throat.

  Hannah’s hair is still damp from the shower and she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a loose shirt. I’ve seen this look on her often over the course of this summer. In the time she’s been living with me, her post-work exhaustion has regularly resulted in her immediately changing into pajamas and lazing around the house for the night.

  What’s different this time is the smile on her face.

  She’s been here two months, almost to the day, and she’s always had this uncertain expression, especially when she thought no one was looking.

  I’d see her staring at the sunset on one of the loungers outside, or sitting on the couch after work with the TV on but not even watching it. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking about something big and complicated, possibly wondering about her future or feeling worried about what’s next.

  Now though? She’s been smiling all damn day, it seems like.

  From the moment she and Wyatt returned from the pier this afternoon, hand in hand, she’s been nothing but teeth and cheeks and squinty eyes.

  She smiled through lunch, then smiled as she told us she had to work, then smiled while she was working.

  She was smiling when she got home a little while ago, and she smiled all through the episode of Our Planet we just finished, which is a little weird since it’s about global warming and has a slightly ominous tone—though the clip we just watched did have a group of birds working as a group to get their buddy laid.

  Now, she sits snuggled on the couch, smiling as she messes around on her phone, likely texting with Wyatt.

  I shake my head and take another sip of the Dalmore. Now that is something that will definitely take some getting used to.

  Hannah and Wyatt.

  Dating.

  If anyone had ever bet me I’d have a sister and she’d be dating one of my closest friends, I’d have told them they were fucking insane—not because of the sister thing, but because I’d never have been able to imagine one of my good friends in a serious relationship.

  The good thing for me is that Wyatt has a lot to make up for, so I know Hannah is going to keep him on his toes.

  Like today.

  He asked her what she was doing when she got off work and she told him she would be going home to relax and hang out with me. He looked a little stunned but then quickly recovered, asking when she was free so he could take her on a date.

  They’re going out tomorrow, on a Monday, since she’ll be working so much this week. I can tell just how much he’s into her, because he got on the phone the minute she left the table and made a reservation at Nóstimo, the Greek restaurant that rarely has an open table and isn’t even open on Mondays.

  But that’s Wyatt. He may hate the Calloway name, but it does serve him well when he wants to pull a few strings.

  Hannah’s smile is probably because of the guy—even I’m not egotistical enough to believe her happiness is because of me—but I’m just glad to see it’s genuine, and persistent.

  After the life she’s led, she deserves a heaping portion of happiness dumped onto her lap.

  “Will you grab me some more water?” she asks, finally looking up at me and catching me staring at her. “What?” She glances around to see what I might be looking at then brings her eyes back to me.

  “I’m just glad you stayed,” I reply, giving her a smile I hope is as genuine as hers.

  She grins, tucks a throw pillow more snuggly into her side, and gives me a little shrug. “Well, I heard some very convincing arguments about why I should, so I figured I’d give it a shot. You know…give everyone a chance to follow through on their promises.”

  “I’m sure it helps that the man of your dreams wrote you a super gushy love letter, too.”

  Hannah scoffs and rolls her eyes. Then scoffs again.

&n
bsp; I like this side of her. The playful side.

  She didn’t used to tease or play or get irritated, even in jest, and it makes me happy knowing she feels comfortable doing it now, being completely herself.

  It means she’s finally allowing herself to believe she belongs here.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies as I grab a bottle out of the fridge for her. “I know of no dream man or a gushy love letter.”

  I smirk, walking towards her. “Yeah, sure. That sounds truthful.”

  She blushes slightly, reaching out to take the water from my hand.

  “So, you guys are going out tomorrow night?” I ask, settling back in on the opposite end of the couch. It isn’t really a question since I know it’s definitely happening, but I need to be the good big brother who asks about her life, not the dick who growls about his sister’s boyfriend.

  I think most guys would find it hard to walk the line between the two, but I’m a pretty laidback guy. I don’t think it’ll be too hard.

  Hannah sips from her water before answering, giving me a small nod. “It’s not a problem, right?” she finally says, a hint of worry etched in her expression. “I never even…thought to ask if it was okay for me to—”

  “Hannah,” I say, interrupting her. “You can date whoever the hell you want, and you never need my permission, okay? No one else gets to decide what works for you and Wyatt. Not even me.”

  “I know,” she blurts, barely letting me finish, “but I don’t want to affect your friendship with him or something, especially when we’re trying to make sure—”

  “You’re not,” I lie.

  And it’s the easiest lie I’ll ever tell her. Obviously, my friendship with Wyatt will change somewhat now that he’s dating my sister. Hopefully, some of it changes for the better.

  There will definitely be a new line in the sand, though, because no matter what, moving forward, Hannah is where my loyalty lies.

  Wyatt won’t just be my friend, a guy I’ve known practically my whole life, or a partner I share a business with. He’ll be the man dating my sister, so there are new expectations, of honesty and earnestness and devotion. There are new things I’ll need to be paying attention to, even if Wyatt doesn’t realize it.

  That’s not Hannah’s problem, though. And it isn’t something I want her worrying about when she has so much else on her mind.

  “Trust me,” I finally say, reaching over and squeezing her hand in mine. “Wyatt and I are going to be fine.”

  She nods, and I wait until her face has relaxed slightly before I sit back in my spot again.

  I lift my whisky to my mouth and add, “But if I hear you two having sex, I’ll break his dick off.”

  Hannah bursts into laughter, her face flushing red with embarrassment, and she presses her hands to her cheeks.

  The whisky burns in my mouth and going down my throat, but I can’t help the smile on my face.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lennon

  “Alright, so the big question of the day is…who saw the advert in the newspaper?”

  I glance over to Paige, who is pulling a folded-up newspaper leaf out of her purse, a huge smile stretched across her face.

  There’s a temporary dip in noise around the table, cutlery settling and conversations pausing as everyone shifts their attention away from their brunch and over to where Paige sits at the head.

  Once she’s done unfolding it, she flips the paper around so we can all see what it is.

  Wyatt is the first one to laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. He’s followed by a few other chuckles and a “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me” from Lucas, though he has a smile on his face as he reaches across my body to snatch the sheet from Paige’s hands.

  “What is it?” I hear Hannah whisper to Wyatt as Lucas’ eyes flit across the ad, taking everything in with a hint of mortified bemusement.

  “Looks like the Hermosa Beach party king of old is finally handing over his crown,” Otto says, reading over Lucas’ shoulder. “And he took out a fucking full-page announcement to advertise his final bash.”

  “At least the king didn’t name me as the heir,” Lucas says, shaking his head but unable to keep the smile from remaining on his face. He passes the article to Otto, who is practically vibrating in his chair with interest.

  Paige scoffs. “Like that matters. Everyone knows who you are, whether he mentions you by name or not.”

  Lucas rolls his eyes and tucks back into his eggs Benedict, all but dismissing the conversation.

  I hear the newspaper crinkling as it gets handed from person to person around our table of ten, the giggles and chuckles moving in waves as everyone gets a chance to check it out. I continue nibbling on my breakfast bowl, moving the yogurt and oats and blueberries around in a swirl until the paper finally makes its way back to Paige.

  Leaning over, I take a look at it, unable to stop the puff of air that comes from my nose as I try to hold in my desire to burst into laughter. I knew about the party, but this…this is something else.

  Stretched across the full-page spread is a photo of one of the older homes on The Strand. And sitting on the short wall that divides his house from the path is the owner, wearing a golden crown, with all his dogs posed and looking at the camera.

  “The Hermosa Beach party king is handing over the crown,” I read out loud. “Don’t miss the biggest Fourth of July party this beach town has ever seen before the reign officially comes to an end.”

  Beneath the large photo and text there’s a list of a few local bands and celebrities who will be making appearances and performing. I smirk, slightly impressed at the level of notoriety he’s been able to get for this event.

  “You gotta admit—a full-page ad like that?” I raise my eyebrows and look at Lucas. “That’ll get some attention.”

  “Who wants attention?” he grumbles, slumping down in his seat like a child.

  Lucas Pearson is quite the contradiction sometimes.

  On one hand, he’s legitimately famous—a professionally ranked surfer who has won some of the world’s most illustrious and prestigious titles—and definitely fills the role of Hermosa Beach royalty. He’s thrown well-attended ragers since we were in high school and even has his own fan page online, hosted by a group of local girls who went to the public school.

  On the other hand, he acts like there is any way in hell he has a modicum of privacy, steering clear of reporters and journalists like the plague, pretending people don’t watch him everywhere he goes.

  I’ve never really understood it, coming from my background that doesn’t just consist of local attention but national recognition, but I’ve always chalked it up to that surfer mentality he seems to have, that don’t take life too seriously vibe he manages to pull off so effortlessly.

  “This shit’s gonna be so dope,” Aaron says from the other end of the table, rubbing his hands together. “I’m beyond stoked. I heard the parties he threw back in the ’80s were sick.”

  “Who is this guy, again?” Hannah asks.

  “Remember, I told you about the guy with all the big white dogs?” Lucas says. Then he sticks his thumb out in the direction of where Paige is folding up the newspaper. “That’s him.”

  “He’s lived in Hermosa Beach for a long time and has thrown some of this city’s most killer parties,” Otto interjects. “Hot chicks, booze abundant, live music, cops, craziness, and general debauchery.”

  I roll my eyes and look at Hannah. “None of us were even alive during his glory days, and he doesn’t really do anything big anymore.”

  “I love his dogs. They’re so fluffy!” Rebecka exclaims.

  Otto shudders. “They’re a nuisance. They bark at everyone.”

  “No, they bark at you.” Lucas’ comment has everyone chuckling. “They love me.”

  “Our parents used to go to his parties when they were around our age,” Wyatt chimes in. “He and my parents are friends. I’m pretty sure he’s calmi
ng things down because he wants to run for office.”

  Hannah nods.

  “If the king is throwing a bash, he’ll probably be hosting the town’s party elite and masses of wannabes. So what’s the plan for us?” Otto asks.

  Aaron scoffs, his brow pinched in confusion. “Uh, obviously we’re gonna go to his party.” He looks to Lucas. “Besides, don’t you wanna be there so he can officially hand off the crown?”

  Lucas chuckles. “I don’t think he was actually intending on conducting a ceremony, Aaron.” He pauses, taps his fork lightly against his plate. “Besides, I think I’m gonna do something small this year. Just a few friends and family, lounging around, maybe some grilling, and fireworks on the roof.”

  Hannah grins at him. “If it’s going to be small, can we invite Ivy and Ben?” she asks, referencing Wyatt’s younger sister and older brother.

  Wyatt conceals his smile by lifting his drink to his mouth, but I see him squeeze Hannah affectionately where his other arm wraps around her shoulders.

  It’s no secret that Hannah and Ivy have grown close over the past few months since they both speak sign language, but I’m surprised to hear her ask if Ben Calloway can come.

  Wyatt’s older brother is her boss—the owner of Bennie’s at the Pier, the best diner and brewery in town—and a complete prick, no matter how handsome he is.

  “Absolutely,” Lucas says. “Invite your friends from work, too.”

  Hannah laughs. “I don’t really have many friends at work, but I’ll make sure to ask Eleanor if she’s busy. If she’s not working, I’m sure she’d love a chance to watch the fireworks from the roof.”

  “So, you’re really just gonna have a super-sleepy non-party?” Aaron interjects, his mouth and eyes wide with confusion and at least a hint of mortification, the idea of not partying hard on the busiest beach holiday of the year clearly too insane to process.

  But Lucas just settles back in his chair, elbows on the armrests and hands folded casually against his stomach. “Yeah. I am.”