I nodded. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, and I know this competition was in the past, but—”
“You are prying.” His voice was suddenly cold. “And you’re right, the competition was in the past. I’d like to leave it there.”
This was a frosty side of Trey I’d never seen before. “There were some things in that article I found concerning. It raised some larger questions and—”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
The temperature seemed to have plummeted all of a sudden. The air was so sharp, every breath stung my nostrils. Trey’s ears were a shocking pink, his jaw muscles tensed. We were alone in a house together, and that article had everything to do with me.
“Are you a rageaholic?”
Instantly, his expression went from stony to stunned. “No. Geez. Is that what you—” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and winced like he was in pain. “It’s that quote from Shayla, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean, look, if you need help and you’re getting it, that’s great. I just want to know the truth about what happened before and what’s happening now.” And if I should be worried about anything happening in the future.
With a heavy sigh, he collapsed on the couch, head in hands. I sat beside him, at arm’s length. The guac stain sullied the space between us.
“She said it to make me look bad. Like I deserved what she did to me, cheating on me all those months.” He looked up, out the front window, then in my eyes. “It wasn’t true. I don’t need ‘help.’ Not any more than anyone else needs it, anyway.”
“Then what was up with the unsportsmanlike conduct and the screaming at the judges and the tweetstorm?”
“The unsportsmanlike conduct was an unfair call. When you’re surfing in a tournament, you’re at the mercy of the judges. What they say goes. But it’s all subjective, and even though they say they don’t play favorites, they do.
“Anyway, in this heat, they said I interfered with Zander’s wave, but I didn’t. He screwed up and made it look like it was my fault. This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled something like that, either, and I could’ve contested it, but...I guess I’d just had enough.”
His eyes drooped, all iciness gone, replaced with lukewarm detachment. Obviously, there was more to the situation than a couple of biased judges. Zander and Shayla were still dating, and as far as I knew, Zander was still competing in the tournament, still traveling the world, with Trey’s ex-girlfriend on his arm.
Those were details I wasn’t going to ask about, though, because in that sense, he was right, it had nothing to do with me. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Do you regret it? Now that you’ve been suspended from the competition.”
He thought for a moment, then said, “Yes and no. I regret losing my cool, but I don’t regret speaking the truth, even if the truth wound up getting twisted for clickbait.” He shot me another quick side-eye, and my stomach clenched with guilt.
Suddenly, I realized my phone was still in my hand, my fingers locked around it as if it was a lifeline. I loosened my grip and tossed it on the coffee table, eager to distance myself from all these virtual worlds that didn’t really exist.
“And,” he continued, “I don’t care about being disqualified since I was gonna quit anyway. My scores had been tanking all season, and it wasn’t always because of favoritism. My head wasn’t in the game. I needed...a break.”
I slid a couple of inches closer to him, covering the guac stain. “You must’ve been under a lot of pressure. The competition at the pro level, I can’t imagine how fierce it is.”
“It wasn’t the pressure that broke me. It was the posturing. Suddenly, my whole world was about maintaining an image. I wanted to live my life without every little movement being scrutinized. That’s something Shayla never understood.
“So when they made the call to disqualify me, I didn’t bother to fight it. I just packed up my board and came home.” Trey’s eyes danced around the room, surveying the exposed ceiling beams and pale blue walls. “It’s weird calling this home, though. I’ve never actually lived here.”
“You haven’t?”
“Nah. Back when I won my first tournament, about four years ago, I used the money to buy this house as an investment property. As soon as I got the keys, I hired a decorator to make it look nice and popped it up on Airbnb. I figured I’d make a nice chunk of change renting it out and then come live here when I retired. Or maybe sell it for a profit. Never thought I’d be here now.” Regret flashed in his eyes.
“Well, I’m glad you are.” It was a bold move saying something that unabashedly earnest, but Trey rewarded my bravery with a smile.
“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
The space between us on the couch grew smaller. We were maybe a thigh’s width apart by now. “You know, this is my dream home.”
Trey looked predictably confused. “It is?”
“It is. Sometimes, when I’m feeling really bummed out, I like to stand outside by the fence and fantasize about what it would be like to live here. It always makes me feel better.”
Uh-oh. From the expression on Trey’s face, I had clearly gone too far in the oversharing department. His mouth opened, slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next.
“Bree.” My name on his breath was golden. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”
I guffawed. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “I assure you, I’m the opposite of interesting. In fact, a well-respected professor once told me I was ‘acutely mediocre.’”
“That professor’s an asshole. Mediocre people don’t conquer a lifelong fear of the ocean by wading right into the oncoming waves. They don’t ask difficult, uncomfortable questions to get at the truths they need to hear. They’re more concerned with looking cool than being real. You’re the furthest thing from mediocre, Bree. You’re extraordinary.”
Extraordinary.
That single word was better than any five-star rating I’d ever received. Better than Level Ten Minion or Top Grubber status. It was the abundance.
“My lips are feeling better,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “In case you were wondering. Totally healed.”
Trey’s mouth curved into a wry smile. “Good to know.”
The space between us disappeared. I closed my eyes and tasted his salty-sweet lips, and as one big, strong hand reached up to cradle the back of my head, there was only one word to describe the sensation spreading through my body, across my skin, down to my bones.