𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 || baxter radic

22.

I cling to his back as he drives, like if I let go he'll vanish from my life forever. The bike ride isn't long, but it feels like an eternity. The anticipation of what's coming eating away at my brain. It's itching my skin, making all nerves rush to the surface.

Bax comes to a stop, placing his feet firmly on the ground. I climb off slowly, watching him lean his bike against the building we're outside of. "You look so pitiful." He cups my cheeks in his palms, his eyes scanning my features like they'll take away my feelings. But they don't, his touch though, it wakes me enough to prepare myself for what's coming.

"Such a nice compliment. I have the greatest boyfriend ever." I try and add a joking tone to my words, but it comes out flat. It causes him to laugh anyways. I guess my pain brings him joy. This boy has not even a lick of tiredness flowing through him. I cannot relate.

"Hey, I'm trying to be a nice guy here." He wraps his fingers up and mine, tugging me inside of the building. I stumble into him at first, but he catches me before I fall. "You are being dramatic Maybelle." He pokes my sides as I stable myself.

It causes me to giggle as I mimic his tone and words back to him. He glares at me, before tickling at my sides even more. I'm squirming in his grasp, almost screaming to get away. He shushes me when I get to loud, but it doesn't stop the laughs from falling. I'm more awake, and I think that's exactly what he wanted.

"I do have to preface this first." He stands in the doorway of a room—I assume must be one we are bound to enter. I nod my head gesturing for him to continue on. "Just don't be upset."

A quizzical expression lights up on my face as he steps out of the way, entering the room with his back toward me. I follow behind him hesitantly, very focused on the surroundings around me.

I have a feeling I know what's coming. The vibe of the building, what I have already seen on our way in—it gives me some kind of inkling of what's coming my way.

What I don't expect though, is what I'm met with. I expected to see a surfboard. And I did see a surfboard. But I didn't expect to see my brother's name in bold letters across its surface. "Holy shit." I clasp my hand over my mouth as I walk over to study the board closer.

"I thought whoever wins the surf comp can take the board as a trophy." His hand slips mine from my face, his touch is gentle and soft.

My other hand reaches out and runs over the smooth surface on the board. I trace the letters of my brother's name, my finger flowing freely over the surface. "This is incredible Baxxy." I glance at him completely in awe of what's sat before me.

"It's alright." He keeps himself humble. I don't know why though. This was incredible. "It's the least I could do. I couldn't contribute in any other way."

"Stop selling yourself short. You've been so negative tonight." I step closer to him, trailing my fingers up his arm until they reach his face. His eyes follow my movements, completely distracted by my touch.

"I felt like I could do nothing to help. My job was to keep you distracted. So you didn't find out. Makes me feel a little like shit. I'll get over it." His face for the first time doesn't look defeated. It's actually just soft, dazed almost. Like looking at me is completely trapping him a trance. Almost like his gaze earlier to the features on my face.

"I think keeping me distracted is a feat in itself." My fingertips trail more along his skin. My eyes tracing their race around his body. "This though Baxter Radic, is way better than anything the others did." I tap against the board, quickly returning my touch to his warm skin after.

"You're just saying that because you love me." He wraps his arms around me, pulling me as close as he can—our bodies flush against one another. There is definitely no room for Jesus here. His hands don't move from their position on my lower back. They sit comfortably mere centimeters from a place he's spent too much time staring at.

"Do I love you?" I question him, a smile tugging up one on side.

"I mean of course, what's not to love." He smirks at me. Gosh, something about that damn ego just sends me. His confidence slipping has been a blow to who he is as a person. Being able to see his cocky confidence on a raise made me so incredibly happy. Ego and confidence is what made Baxter who he was. Without that it almost seemed like a shell, with nothing existing inside. Well, besides maybe a little bit of a heart beating just to survive.

"You got me there." I admit defeat, because he wasn't wrong. Everything about him was lovely. Even when he made mistakes at least he had the balls to own up to it. At least he made an effort to do better. You didn't always get that. And for that reason alone, there was nothing that you couldn't love about him.

I mean, maybe my parents would say his tattoos were something to not love. Or the piercing in his nose. Honestly, probably his pink hair too. But I loved all of those things. They made him who he was. They were a part of who he had become as a person. They completed him.

"You aren't upset?" He asks as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is feather light as he does it—like if he touches me any harder I'll shatter.

"Because you made this?" I ask a bit shocked. "What would make you think I'd be up—" it clicks in my head as I say it aloud, "Baxxy, just because you made Summer a board doesn't mean that can't be something that happens now in this relationship, you noodle head."

I ruffle the hair on top his head. His pink has been long faded, barely holding any pink left at all. I really did want to dye it tonight, but with everything, it needed to be another time. I missed it. His hair bright hair made him feel a little more like himself. Not just like some other cookie cutter surfer. It made him special.

He grabs my wrists after my hands escape his hair. "Maybelle..." His voice trails off. The lowness in it lingering with a heaviness in the air.

"Baxter..." I copy the tone of his voice, my eyes searching his features wondering what he's got racing through his mind. His fingers loosen around my wrist, instantly cupping my cheeks in his palms.

In an instant, it's like all the air has been sucked from my lungs. His lips collide against mine with more passion and lust than they ever have. I swear it makes me forget how to think straight. I'm lost in the drug that he has always been, standing next to a surfboard specifically made in honor of my brother. I really would not want to be anywhere else in the world, but right here.