Victim of Love by Darien Cox Page A

arms. “I don’t like to think about that time period.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “Sorry I asked.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You couldn’t have known.”
    I thought about what she said. She hadn’t specified if the ‘friend’ was male or female. A friend? Or a lover? If it was the latter, and male, it stood to reason Laurie wouldn’t have known.
    I’m not sure why this information surprised me, but it did. Granted, I’d just met the man, but Beck didn’t strike me as someone who’d ever experienced significant pain. He was all toothy grins and wise ass barbs all the time, and I realized now I’d already summed him up as being kind of superficial. And this is why you shouldn’t judge by appearances.
    But oh, what an appearance. Beck stepped into the room wearing board shorts and a pale blue tank top, complexion smooth and pink from the shower. He reached over my shoulder and grabbed an apple, his close proximity and soapy scent making my gut tighten. “So are we beach bound or what?” he asked.
    “I’m ready,” Pippa said.
    I wiped my hands on a napkin. “Me too.”
    “Olsen,” Beck said, surprising the shit out of me by running a finger down my bare arm. “You better wear your burka. That skin of yours looks like it’s gonna burn, baby.”
    Though my face was burning now from the simple attention he’d given me, no one else seemed to think anything of it. Except for Kamal, who was giving me that look again, like I was an unruly pupil and hadn’t learned my lesson. “He’ll be fine,” Kamal said. “He’s got his Sunblock 3000.”
    Twenty minutes later we were all down on the crowded beach, grouped around a cluster of cabana chairs. Townsend was battling with Pippa and Laurie, who wanted to go paddle boarding.
    “Jet skiing is way more fun,” he said. “Paddle boarding is hard work, and I don’t want to do hard work on my vacation.”
    “But it’s fun work,” Pippa whined.
    “You guys can do it then,” Townsend said. “I’m out of shape. There, I said it. I want to engage in a water sport that involves sitting my ass down and going really fast on something with a motor. Olsen, jet skiing?”
    I patted the small knapsack by my side. “Actually...I kind of want to just hang here and read.”
    “I’ll jet ski with you, Townsend,” Kamal said. “I am not as young and spritely as I used to be.”
    Pippa clapped her hands. “Okay so Laurie and I will paddle board and you guys can jet ski. Beck? How ’bout you? What’s it gonna be?”
    “I don’t know,” he said, squinting at the sun as he peeled off his tank top. “I already exercised, I think I might just hang on the beach with Olsen. I brought a book too.”
    Laurie rolled her eyes. “ Boring . Okay, fine. We’ll see you guys later on.”
    Beck picked Laurie up and tipped her upside down, making her squeal. “Don’t fall in the water, sis! Don’t fall in the water!”
    “Stop it, you’re getting sand in my hair!”
    He let her go and she dove on him, sweeping her leg under his and tripping him. Beck fell and grabbed her arm, rolling her over his head where she landed in the sand. “I hate you!” she said, but she was laughing.
    I smiled at their sibling play, something I’d never had. I used to beg my mother for a baby brother when I was a kid, but apparently my large head had shredded her vagina and she had no desire for a repeat performance, so I got a puppy instead.
    An old emotional scar twinged in my belly, recalling that year in college when my life became a bad country music song. My mom died of colon cancer in the spring. By Halloween, my dad had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, and was gone by the end of November. As icing on that shit sandwich, my dog, then fifteen years old, died on Christmas day.
    Lost in my maudlin memories, I barely noticed the others had already gone, until Beck took the cabana chair beside me, pulling a book out of his bag. I was surprised he’d opted