Chapter 8

California sushi is almost as aesthetic as walking in slow motion with two hands full of shopping bags from Louis Vuitton. Not only were both included in today's montage of events, but we've also spent two hours searching for Chris and Tyler a new pair of Nikes, explored nearly all of crowded downtown Los Angeles, and taken way too many pictures for a casual outing.

But reaching this moment was worth putting up with the indecisiveness, the blaring sun, and walking dubstep to keep up with the guys.

Out past all the restaurants, light up carnival rides, and crowds of people is just a wide expanse of water and sky, the perfect semi-secluded pier overlooking the ocean. A mixture of serenity and pure contentment overwhelms as the waves never fail to continuously kiss the shore despite being pulled back out every time. The sun casting a glorious blend of red and yellow as it hovers just above the horizon, a stark contrast to the deep blue ocean stretching out before me.

I've always tried to see myself as more of a city girl, blending into the middle of the action rather than relaxing on a beach with the gritty sand somehow making it's way into everything.

But that is only half true.

There's something heavenly peaceful just standing here, staring off into the never ending picture in front of me.

That is until I'm rudely interrupted when Wilder hoists me up over his shoulder, pretending to throw me over the railing while I scream for dear life, clinging to his shirt in a small state of panic. Meanwhile, Tyler is vigorously clicking away at my camera between fits of laughter with Chris.

As we begin to draw a small crowd, I revert to more of a whisper yell while banging my fists against his back. "Declan Wilder, if you don't put me down, I will—"

"What, AJ? What are you going to do? I seem to have the advantage right now."

He does seem to have the advantage, but I am not to be underestimated. I still have a few violent options up my sleeve, but as annoying as he is, I don't actually want to hurt him. I just want him to put me down, so people will stop staring. He may thrive off of attention, and trust me, he holds it well. I, however, do not.

I pull in a deep breath of fresh ocean air, pushing it out quickly before stilling my body completely. "Wilder, will you please put me down?"

"Aww, good girl. Using your manners and everything." He teases before slowly sliding me off of his shoulder.

How was that so attractive? I always thought being called a good girl would be just as cringe as calling someone daddy, but I may have very much changed my mind, suddenly catching a severe case of daddy issues.

I gaze up at him slowly, his body flush against mine, heartbeats completely in sync. My shirt has somehow hiked halfway up my back so his hands rest on the bare skin of my lower back, leaving an odd tingling sensation. His eyes never leave mine, still baring into my soul like he has some sort of x-ray vision, and I refuse to be the first to look away.

I desperately want to believe that I'm not the only one feeling like this, but Wilder's job is to be attractive and make people believe they have a shot.

To make you feel like the main character.

To make one second last an eternity.

Chris finally interrupts out little eternity. "You guys wanna catch In-N-Out on the way back, or we could show her the roof once it gets dark?"

I hesitantly glance between the horizon and my watch, wishing someone would catch the hint. I did not come all the way out here just to leave before the sky changes colors over the silent sea. Unfortunately, I'm still only met with blank stares.

"Do you think we could stay a little longer? Just to watch the sunset. It won't be long." I'm not really sure who I'm asking, but there's no way I'll make it home from here by myself.

And of course Wilder comes to my rescue. "Why don't you guys go pick it up, and then we'll meet you back at the house?"

Tyler and Chris gradually disappear down the boardwalk, leaving me alone on the pier with Wilder as the buzzing crowds behind become a blurry, monotonous drone. His arms are casually resting on the railing a tad bit too close to mine.

"I like your ring." I blurt to break the silence. It's one of those screw design Cartier rings that cost as much as my rent for the month.

"Thanks." He says, glancing down at his hand, his lips curving into small smile. "It was sort of an impulse buy before I went back home for the first time."

"A Cartier ring is one hell of an impulse buy."

He chuckles softly, "I bought the matching bracelet, too."

"You know, I heard that used to you couldn't buy them for yourself, like you had to come in as a couple or say you're buying it for your significant other or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but they obviously don't do that anymore. They've also used to call them modern love handcuffs, whatever that means."

He remains silent for a moment, cocking his head like something I said puzzled him. "How do you know so many random facts about everything?"

"Honestly, I don't even know." I shrug my shoulders quickly changing the subject. "I'm assuming when you said 'go back home,' you don't mean LA."

"Nah, I'm actually from New Jersey. So, home is either there or wherever my mom is."

"Ahh, so a Jersey boy and a momma's boy." I playfully nudge his shoulder without moving from the railing.

"Don't act like you don't have Daddy's Girl written all over you. Your accent is hard to figure out, but there's a part of me that would put money on you being from the south somewhere."

I never quite fit in there, but I pull out every southern root that I've deeply buried to create the perfect rendition of a southern belle. "Georgia, born and raised. I make a mean chicken pot pie."

What? I don't even like chicken pot pie.

He faces me, still casually leaning on the railing, shaking his head. "Never do that again. It was cute, but never again."

"Yes sir." I tease before turning back towards the ocean. "Is your family close?"

"Well, obviously me and Chris, but I've got a few other half siblings that I see occasionally. It was kind of hard growing up, but my mom took care of us the best she could, especially when my dad left and none of her deadbeat boyfriends stuck around. But now she has Andrew and I have the cutest little brother who's about to turn six."

"Wow. She must be Super Woman to handle you and Chris, plus some." I counteract teasing him by placing my hand on his forearm and peering up at him sincerely. "No, but seriously, though. She raised some good ones. A little wild, but good."

Chris may be a big baby, and Wilder is definitely closed off romantically, but it's easy to tell how much they genuinely care about people once they get to know you, especially those closest to them.

He fidgets with the ring on his finger, like some shy alter ego has infiltrated his personality, leaving him with the sudden loss of the ability to take a compliment. "What's your family like?" He asks.

"Nothing too crazy. My parents have actually been married for about 25 years, and then I have one younger brother, who's one of my best friends in the entire world. You'll have to meet him when he comes to visit."

"Ooh! A new soul to corrupt." He laughs.

"You better not. I will beat the shit out of you. He's a good kid, and he's not even 21."

"Aww, come on. You never let me have any fun."

"You haven't ditched me, yet."

"Well, no one else shit talks me like you. Someone's got to keep me in my place."

Damn right, he needs someone to keep him in his place.

When I don't respond, silence takes over again with the crowd's white noise as a welcome background. The wind blowing gently against my face, playing with my hair and whispering sweet nothings while shades of pink, orange, and purple are painted across the sky, highlighting God's perfectly painted masterpiece as it transitions from day to night, leaving the once blue water an eerily opaque black. The stars slowly creeping out as the sun almost completely fades below the horizon.

"I kind of missed sunsets and stars. Los Angeles is a lot brighter and busier than what I'm used to."

"Sunsets and stars? That's all you miss about home?"

"Mmm, and obviously my family. Oh, and small town drive in movies. We used to take bean bag chairs and put them in the back of my dad's truck. But, yeah, that's about it."

He's still facing forwards, but his eyes dart towards me as if he's trying to ask me something without actually using words. Instead of acknowledging it, I jump on his back while he's still close to the railing, praying I don't topple over into the ocean.

"Okay, Wilder. Let's go get food. I'm starving!"

"Yes ma'am." He mocks in the most terrible southern accent.

"Never again." I decide to use his words against him. "It was cute, but never again."

What is it about this man that makes me feel like a child again? Something so nostalgic, yet I can't put a finger on it. Whatever it is, I refuse to let go of it.