“She’s not my girlfriend,” I spat, watching her slipping into her car and sliding her sunglasses on with a smile.

She looked up to the sun, pointed at it and said, “Sometimes the sun is a liar. Sometimes it’s out, even though it is cold.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Later that day, I headed to the beach to train Beck.

I’d like to say it was solely for the purpose of preparing him for the looming competition I was sponsoring, but I was trying the whole honesty thing to better myself and such, so I should probably mention I knew that Hale was going to be there, and I had some unfinished business with the fucker. Namely: Jesse.

I found Beck, Hale, and Edie sitting outside Breakline, her surf shop. She was waxing her surfboard on the sand in a little white bikini, and from afar, I could see the uncanny bulge peeking above her bikini line. Pregnant.

Every now and again I asked myself how come Gidget wasn’t knocked up yet, and honestly, I was surprised they’d lasted seven years before deciding to give Luna a sibling. Edie was a nurturer by nature. Either way, I was happy for her. I knew she hadn’t said anything to anyone, because I would be the first person outside her immediate family she’d tell, so I kept my mouth shut. Hale was painting old surfboards shirtless, and Beck was already in his wetsuit, reading something on his phone—it better had been his competitors’ stats, because the asshole was too chill, and I’d put some big money on his gig.

“Douchebags, Dudette,” I greeted, dumping my surfboard on the sand next to Beck’s Firewire. He had the sickest surfboards, but that came with the territory of spending his entire paycheck on them.

Edie looked up from her board and smiled, squinting her eyes under the sun. “What’s in the bag?”

I was dangling the bag with Jesse’s present in my hand absentmindedly and hadn’t even noticed. Damn. “The necessary tools to castrate Hale.”

Beck and Edie laughed. Hale didn’t. He knew exactly why I was pissed at him. I cocked my head sideways, my smirk sending an arrow of venom all the way across to him.

“A word,” I said.

“I have a feeling I’ll be hearing a lot more than one, and none of them will be to my liking,” Hale groaned, but followed me into the store. I sauntered to the mini fridge behind Edie’s counter and took out a beer. He fell into a donut-shaped beanbag, flicking dirt from his fingernails and looking skyward, as if I was a melodramatic cheerleader who’d just found out he’d liked some other chick’s photo on Instagram. I placed Jesse’s present on the counter carefully and turned to face him.

“Have you texted her yet?”

“Texted who?”

“Don’t fuck with me. I fuck harder. Comes with the territory of doing it for a living.”

“I’m not fucking with you. I’m genuinely wondering what you are talking about.” He blinked, still playing coy. I didn’t know why Hale wanted to get a rise out of me, or people in general. It was my personal suspicion that he was bored out of his mind and looking to antagonize people because the two people he wanted so badly to piss off—his own parents—controlled his every move, including his future. He wanted to become an entrepreneur and spend his days bumming around, but it so happened he couldn’t have what I had—his hand was twisted into becoming a professor like his dad—so that’s what he was going to be.

“What do you think I’m talking about?” Okay, now I was beginning to sound like a cheerleader. What did you do to me, Jesse? I want my balls back.

He made a show of rubbing the back of his neck, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know. I collected all the protection money a day early. I’m helping Gidget with her shop. I’m just a nice guy doing nice things.” He flashed me a toothy, wolfish smirk I wanted to wipe off his face with my boot. “Guess you’ll have to enlighten me.”

“Jesse Carter.” I splashed my fingers over the counter, standing behind it so I wouldn’t launch myself at Hale accidentally. Or not so accidentally.

“Hmm. Your new barista, right? Fuck hot.” He whistled then proceeded to bite his fist. I wanted to kill him. But in a mean way. Not a clean bullet to the head. Maybe choke him or throw him into a pit of snakes.

“Have you texted her yet?” I asked.

“I have.”

Where am I going to find so many snakes? “And what did you say?”

“I asked her if she wanted to grab a coffee later. Not at Café Diem, obviously. Somewhere cool.” His voice was calm and calculated, as if pissing me off was his mission in life. Did he have any idea what he was messing with? Who he was messing with? No. Of course not. I’d never been half as possessive of any woman in my life. Even with Edie, whom I very much liked, I didn’t particularly care. I’d let her slip through my fingers right into Trent’s arms without a fight, knowing they’d needed each other, and that I didn’t need anyone. Whenever men hit on her, I’d watched with a mixture of pity and amusement. Not in Jesse’s case. This felt personal.

“Did she answer?” I never asked questions, let alone that many, but I couldn’t stop myself, and that was a problem.

“Not yet.”

“She won’t,” I deadpanned, tossing the beer to the trash without even touching it. “Delete her number from your contacts and never talk to her again.”

“What?!” He laughed.

“Did I fucking stutter?” My jaw stiffened, and I kicked a can of fresh paint sideways, ready to march over to him and plant a fist in his face.

“Says who?” His smile evaporated.

“Says me.”

“And you are…?”

“Are you having an amnesia episode? I’m your fucking boss.”

Hale shook his head. “What I mean is, what are you to her? What gives you the right to warn me off? Are you her boyfriend? Brother? Daddy?”

Let the record show that he asked for it.

I rounded the counter toward him, fisted the collar of his shirt, and yanked him so that we were nose-to-nose.

“She’s mine.”

“Does she know that?” He searched my eyes, his expression tranquil.

“Yeah.” Told you I was a liar.

“Guess I’ll have to hear it from her, then.”

I released him, letting his body drop like a stone on the beanbag. “Drop it.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m kicking you out of the business, and your game would be over. No more Mr. Tough Guy, and back to folding shirts at the Gap. Of course, cutting ties with me would mean less pussy and surfing time, but at least you’ll get a fifty percent employee discount and can finally stop wearing these fucking Hawaiian shirts.”

Yes. I went there. I insulted his clothes. I was officially a chick.

Hale narrowed his eyes, the gravity of my threat sinking in. “You can’t do that.”

I grabbed his phone next to him and punched in his code—his ex-girlfriend’s birthday he was too lazy to change—looking for Jesse’s contact as I spoke. “Newsflash: I can do whatever I want. People come and go. It was Edie in your shoes seven years ago. Then she married a millionaire, and I took Robbie on. Then he moved, and I employed Ashford. There’s always a Hale in the background—an errand boy I split my money with to make sure everything’s in check. Don’t be fooled by my generosity. I don’t need you, and the minute I drop you, you’re done here. Stay away from Jesse Carter. I’ll ask again—am. I. Clear?” I threw his phone onto his chest after I was done removing her number from his memory.

His jaw locked, and he got up from the beanbag, zigzagging his way back outside. He was blind with rage. I looked up to see Gidget and Beck standing there, looking less than impressed. I’d always been harsh on Hale, but I never went as far as threatening to fuck him over. But things were beginning to change, and not only because of Jesse.

“Was that really necessary?” Beck crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

I ignored him. “Get your surfboard. Time to kill some waves.”

When I got out, Edie pulled me by the arm to a corner behind her shack-like shop, and I let her, even though I knew she was going to annoy the crap out of me with whatever was going to fall out of her mouth.

“Is this about Jesse?” She was so annoyed, her nostrils were as wide as her eyes.

“Why?”

“Because you act all weird about her. I’ve seen you with her, Bane. I’m not blind. And I’m wondering…” She licked her lips, staring up at me in a way I couldn’t decode. Hopeful? Yeah. She looked kind of hopeful.

“Go on. That’s not technically a fucking sentence,” I grumbled.

“I was wondering if she knew about your job.”

Oh.

Oh.

“She knows,” I said. And she did. She also hated it. That was why Hale had her number in the first place.

“Don’t be dramatic. Everything is under control.” Wasn’t that what people whose lives were a big, hot mess said? I shook my arm away, flashing a confident smile I couldn’t feel, let alone believe. I knew I had no fucking right blocking other guys from dating her when I couldn’t do it myself. Nonetheless, I just couldn’t stop myself.

“Hale should stay away from Jesse if he wants to keep his dick intact. Actually, feel free to pass this message on to the rest of the male population in this town. By the way”—I leaned down, my mouth on her cheek—“you’re showing. Congratulations.”

Later that evening, I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, trying not to flinch.

I gripped the sink to a point of white knuckles, asking myself if I had it in me to do what I supposed I should have done a long time ago.

To let go of the bad shit.

I looked down. Clutched the scissors next to the faucet.

Looked back up.

You’re not the bastard who raped your mom, Jesse had said to me this week. But Jesse didn’t know all there was to know about me, so really, did her opinion count for shit?