Piecing Together Sydney (A Sydney West Novel Book 3) by Brittney Coon Page A

hours. His beautiful silver eyes were swollen and rimmed in red. There were line imprints on his cheek, further evidence of lying on pillows and not moving.
    “Hey, babe. Do you want some coffee?”
    “Mmm,” was all he said as he dragged himself to the coffee pot, pouring what was left into his mug.
    I licked my lips and looked at the shell of a man who was once so alive and amazing. Then it hit me. Jason always went surfing when things got tough. Maybe that was the key.
    “Do you want to catch some waves?” I tried to act innocent and not reveal I had a plan.
    He didn’t bother to sweeten his coffee and drank it black, his face screwed in disgust as it went down his throat. “Sure, but I thought you didn’t surf when the sun was up high.”
    God, he was so fucked up yet he remembered I didn’t like to surf when the sun was mid-sky due to being burned. How should I take that?
    “It’s fine. I have sunscreen.”
    He nodded and abandoned his mug on the counter. I followed him up the stairs, half-thinking he was going to cave into himself again and be locked in the bedroom all day. He did go into the bedroom, but left the door open. I peeked inside to find him digging in a drawer, pulling out his swim trunks. I sighed in relief and went to the drawer where I kept my bikini. We changed together, but facing away. He stood by the mirror, messing with his hair. I leaned against the bed, struggling to tie my top behind me.
    “Need help?” His voice was low, rough. It wasn’t smooth and warm, turning my knees to jelly.
    “Yeah.” I let the ties go and crossed my arms across my breasts to keep the top in place. He grabbed the strings and made a tight double knot. It was never coming off now. “Thanks.” I turned back around and reached for his arm, trying to keep him from going back into lockdown mode.
    His phone chimed; someone texted him. Jason moved away from me and dug through all the pillows on the bed until he found the cell phone crammed between the bed and the headboard.
    I took the sunscreen from my dresser and applied it to my legs, arms, face, and chest. Jason huffed and tossed his phone onto the mattress. Every fiber of my being wanted to peek at his phone to see who messaged him. It could’ve been his father. I doubted he had Jason’s number. Judging from the scowl on his face, I bet it was Kylie talking about their old man.
    It was my turn to use the mirror, trying to apply the sunscreen to my back. Jason took the bottle without a word and applied the lotion for me. He then put sunscreen on himself and gave me the bottle back, turning so I could do his back. I squeezed out a pool of cream and touched his hot skin, tracing the tattoo of eagle wings and every muscle that moved.
    We gathered our boards and hit the road without speaking. The radio played between us. I drove to the beach with a heavy heart. This man beside me looked like Jason, he smelled like Jason, but he wasn’t my Jason.
    The ocean was perfectly warm and the waves were incredible. About five other surfers were on the water when we paddled in. Last summer, Jason and I stayed close and usually rode the same wave. Now Jason was moving away from me and pulling himself to his feet to catch the newest wave. I sat back and floated on my board, watching as he cut through the water and did a back flip. He was good. His face was sketched in determination as if he was going to murder the wave and anyone who got in his way.
    I caught the next wave and hung five, feeling that natural rush only Mother Nature could give. Jason was standing on his board with his hands. The other surfers whistled and cheered for him. He never showed off like this…it was something I’d do, not him.
    The surfers created a circle around Jason, all clapping. A girl with bright red hair tied in a pony moved closer to him and touched his arm. I was too far to hear what they were saying, but everyone was smiling, including Jason.
    Another wave reached for the sky, rushing