by Lexi Scott
“Right,” Deo says, drawing out the word. “Except she came running to help you the second you asked. Explain that.”
“Easy,” I say, my eyes never leaving her. She’s definitely looser, freer, happier running on the sand with this pack of crazy teens. I love seeing her this way. “She came because she’s got a big heart and didn’t want to let a kid down. And we’re friends. Just friends. She made it clear she doesn’t want more.”
Deo claps me on the back. “Okay. So the way she was staring at you and your big Hulk muscles when you wrestled that cooler off her was just friendly admiration? Do friends look like they want to rip each other’s clothes off and make sweet, sweet love on the beach? Because I think I’ve had the wrong idea about ‘friendship’ my whole life.”
I open my mouth and close it two or three times, but I have no witty comeback.
“You’re an asshole,” I finally say.
“Maybe. I’m also right,” Deo says, then pushes me to the tents. “Suit up. You can teach your woman to surf. That’s how I got Whit to fall in love with me.”
“I still don’t know what that girl sees in you,” I say.
“You and me both, man. I just thank my lucky stars she’s out of her damn mind to the point where she actually wants to put up with me.” He’s only half joking.
Deo fell in love the second he met Whit, and that love convinced my beach bum best friend to turn into a semi-respectable adult.
Obviously being respectable isn’t the end all when it comes to the romance lottery, or I’d have walked down the aisle with the girl of my dreams years ago. Maybe it’s not about having your shit figured out or learning how to let go. Maybe it’s about finding the right person to be with, to change with not for. Immediately after thinking this thought, my eyes pull to Maren, now turning cartwheels on the beach with a couple of the kids, laughing hard as they collapse on the sand.
She must notice me staring, because she gets up, dusts the sand off the back of her shorts, and jogs over to me, out of breath, her cheeks flushed. “So… The tent is back up, and it seems like it’s staying put for now. Anything else I can do to help out?”
“We’re gonna hit the waves in a few,” Deo butts in, then slaps his forehead and winks at me. He thinks he’s being discreet. He doesn’t realize he’s the most obvious ass in the world. “Damn! I forgot to sign in with the patrol station.”
“Is that something I can do?” Maren asks, totally innocent to my idiot best friend’s deviousness.
“Deo, cut the shit. You did not forget to sign in,” I say.
“I did,” he argues. “That’s usually Whit’s thing. You know, because we need two signatures. I guess I was caught up in planning my first lesson. Sucks, because we really should be out on the waves already.”
“Why don’t Cohen and I go take care of it?” Maren suggests.
“Perfect.” Deo is already walking away backward. “I’ll get the kids safety checked and suited up. We have to do some structured goal journaling so the parents can see what an awesome influence I am on their little angels.” At that second, a blood curdling scream makes us all look down the beach, where there’s a wrestling match going on. I can’t tell whether or not it’s fun and games. “Uh, I’m gonna go keep those little assholes from drowning each other.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell Maren, glaring at Deo as he races off.
“It’s no problem at all. I’m happy to help.” She looks up at me from under her lashes. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
Like she’s reminding me that this isn’t about us. This isn’t romance or a date. It’s a favor.
“Right.” I stick my hands in my pockets to keep them from wandering her way. “It’s not that bad a hike, but we should get started.”
And then that awful, awkward silence descends over both of us as we walk, our feet sliding in the sand toward the thatched hut up the beach. What happened to the ease of all our phone calls? Where did the comfortable friendship we had on our first date go?
I guess it all got tangled in the sheets while we were busy having mind-blowing sex.
“It’s really beautiful here,” she offers, and I can hear how desperate she is to keep things nice and civil.
I’m the kind of guy who follows the rules. I was raised with manners, and I try to act with integrity. But one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in the last few weeks is that it doesn’t always pay to do what’s right. You’ve gotta know when it’s time to take a risk.
Now’s definitely the time.
“The ocean’s okay,” I say, looking over at her delicate profile. “Pretty hard to focus on it when you’re so damn beautiful.”
“Cohen,” she says, my name bumping out on a soft, embarrassed laugh. “Stop.”
“Sorry, but that’s a hard no.” We keep walking, but she’s not smiling anymore. “You can’t ask me to stop, Maren. Look, I’m not the kind of guy who holds on when something’s not right. I’ve learned to cut my losses…definitely learned that the hard way. But I also know better than to let something amazing go when there’s no good reason.”
She pinches her lips together as the wind kicks up the sand around our ankles. “It’s not… I mean, it’s not that I’m not attracted to you. The opposite, actually. I am. I mean, like crazy attracted to you, if I’m being totally honest. Oh my God, I’ll shut up now. Right now.”
She ducks her head so I can’t see her face. I want so badly to stop, take her in my arms, and kiss her—
Why don’t I just do it?
She lets out a little squeal when I grab her around the waist and tug her close. “So, you’re crazy attracted to me?”
Those huge blue eyes stare up at me. “I am,” she stutters. “And it was fun. That one night. So fun. But that’s… That’s all it can be. I’m just not in a place where I can commit to anything serious right now.”
“Tell me why,” I say, stroking my thumb over her jaw, loving the way her lips part when her mouth drops open.
If I put my mouth over hers, if I lick at that soft bottom lip, would she make the same sexy noises she did in my bed?
“My life is just…crazy,” she gasps as my thumb coasts over her lip, dipping in just slightly. I feel the tip of her tongue against my skin, and my blood hisses through my veins in response. She nuzzles her cheek against my hand and closes her eyes. “I need to fix things before I can think about a relationship.”
“I’m really good at fixing things,” I tell her, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist, drawing her closer. “Tell me what’s wrong. I can help.”
It seems like she’s standing perfectly still, but she’s actually trembling. I can feel the frantic beat of her pulse under my fingers. Her eyes open so slowly, and I can read the sadness in them.
“I appreciate the offer. I really do,” she says, her voice cracking. “But this is something I need to do on my own. You have to trust me on this one.”
She puts her small hands on my chest and pushes away from me. I can see how reluctant she is to do it, and that gives me hope— It may take some work, but I can convince her that she doesn’t have to do anything on her own. I’m here for her.
“I want you to remember you can call me anytime, day or night. When you need me, I’ll be there. Whatever you need me for.”
I don’t try to hide the hunger in my voice, and I can tell by the way her eyes widen that she’s thinking about the hot, sweaty, sexy needs we both have.
“We should, um, go fill out the paperwork,” she says, and rushes to the little house.
She’s so petite I barely have to pick up my pace to keep up with her as she rushes away. When we get to the shop, a friendly older woman takes down our information—I guess Deo wasn’t lying about forgetting to sign in after all—double checks our permits, and tells us it’s supposed to be a beautiful night.
“Perfect for stargazing,” she says, giving me an approving look and winking at Maren.
Who’s beet red to the
roots of her dark hair.
The walk back to the beach is silent, but it’s not the awkward silence of the walk down. This time there’s a charge, an electricity that moves the air around us and zaps us with tension that mounts with every step we take.
“Do you surf?” I ask, nodding to the kids and Deo, who are already shredding some really decent waves.
“Yes,” she says, squinting against the too bright sun. “It’s been awhile since I got myself out there.”
“Let’s not waste any more time then,” I say, tugging off my shirt and tossing it in the pile next to the tent Deo set up for me and him next to the guys’ tent.
Maren looks me up and down, and I’m relieved I worked out my frustration about my life’s recent romantic crash-and-burn at the gym these last few weeks. She saw me that night at my place, obviously, but now we’re completely exposed in the bright sunlight.
“I need to change.” She nods to the tent she and Kona will share and keeps an eye on me as she backs in, tripping over the entrance.
“You okay?” I ask, moving toward her.
She throws her hands up and shakes her head. “Fine. I’m fine!”
“I’ll wait here,” I say. I can’t see anything going on, but I can hear the rustling of clothes falling off, and my imagination jumps into hyperdrive.
“You can go on out. I’ll catch up,” she says, her voice muffled.
No way in hell am I missing a second of seeing your cute ass in a bikini.
I wait silently, and when she bursts out of the tent, it’s clear she expected me to be gone.
“Oh! Cohen.” She fiddles with the strings tied behind her neck.
The bikini is way skimpier than I imagined.
It’s blue, like her eyes. And tight. And tiny. And a few knots here and there are all that stands between the tiny scraps of fabric and all her creamy skin, flecked with golden freckles. She grips a bottle of sunscreen tight in her hand.
“You need some help with that?” I ask.
“My mom’s family is from Ireland,” she explains with a half smile. “I burn to a crisp if I’m out too long.”
She steps closer to me, turns so her back is facing me, and pulls her dark hair over one shoulder slowly. I squeeze some lotion into my hands and rub them together, warming it up, before I rub slow, thorough circles, starting at the small of her back. I work up, over the delicate curve of each shoulder, down her slim arms, back over her shoulders, and along the sweet curves of her hips.
She sucks her breath in through her teeth and stands still as a statue. I squeeze some more lotion on and apply it to her lower back.
“I’m not getting fresh, I swear,” I say, my lips close to her ear. “You’ll burn if I don’t make sure I put it on…everywhere.”
I let my fingers dip just below the elastic waistband of her bottoms, so I don’t miss covering a single inch of her silky skin. Her fingers tighten around her hair, and I watch the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes. Quick, shallow breaths.
My hand curves over her hip and around to the impossibly soft skin of her stomach. She whirls around so fast we’re pressed together.
“I’ll take it from here,” she says, snatching the lotion bottle from my hands in a clear panic and putting more on her stomach, her chest, her arms with quick, brisk strokes. “I’m super jealous of your tan, by the way. I’d give anything to get a decent tan,” she babbles, her voice near hysterical.
“You’re gorgeous exactly the way you are.”
She tosses the bottle into the tent and gives me a shaky smile.
“Um, thanks,” she murmurs, then fumbles to grab a surfboard.
We walk down to the beach together, wade into the ocean, and paddle out, side by side.
“Ready?” I call as we straddle our boards, offering her the first decent wave we come across.
She grins at me, all her previous nervousness melted away, then nods, stands up on the board, and rides the wave to shore with the confidence and style of a pro.
I turn my head when I hear a low whistle behind me. “Damn, son, lock that girl down. Also take a few lessons from her. That form—” Deo kisses the tips of his fingers, admiration all over his face.
“Yeah. I know,” I growl, frustrated from wanting what I’m not sure I can have.
I follow her in on the next wave, and we paddle back over and over, making sure to keep a little distance away from Deo and the crew, who have turned from a half-feral bunch of punks to a focused group of athletes hell bent on out-surfing each other.
For Maren and me, it’s just a good time out on the water. She’s got great form, no doubt, but I’m no saint. I’m not just checking out how smooth her roundhouse cutbacks are— I’m definitely soaking up how sexy her curves look in that tiny bikini. I love how easy it is to make her laugh. Somehow the water has lightened the awkwardness and reservations we had on land. When she looks at me from her board, I see a mirror reflection of my own desire.
She said she can’t do serious right now. All right. She also let me know she’s into me. I can work with that.
I’m totally okay with her thinking this is a friends with benefits situation. It just gives me time to convince her that this has the potential to be so much more.
“Are you ready to race in, Rodriguez?” she calls, her smile so gorgeous it knocks me off balance for a minute.
“I’m ready,” I tell her.
I’m definitely ready.
Chapter Thirteen
Maren
My muscles feel deliciously jelly-like. It’s been way too long since I spent the day just having fun. Not worrying about bills or work or my father or chores. Today was like a little slice of paradise.
It sure as hell didn’t hurt that I spent the day gazing at an Adonis.
The time I’ve spent face to face with Cohen is still so fractional compared to the time we spent on the phone, when he pretty much existed as a figment of my imagination.
My imagination, I quickly realize, is shamefully weak. It couldn’t begin to fathom dark, velvety eyes that could look at me with such adorable sweetness, then flip to starved sexiness in a flash. It failed to consider the possibility of the irresistible dimple that creases one side of his cheek, the cutest detail that softens his sharply handsome face. And his body? Broad shoulders, strong arms, a smooth, perfect back, bulging thighs that straddle a surfboard the way I only wish I could straddle him—
Stop it, stop it, you pervert! You’re here to chaperone. Community service. Mind out of the gutter, Maren.
With that thought, I use every ounce of willpower in my body to tear my eyes away from Cohen and smile at Kona, handing her a sandwich from the packed cooler.
“Thank you.” She sighs, then tears into it with a huge bite. She barely chews before she swallows. “I could eat a horse. Surfing destroys me,” she says happily.
“You looked amazing out there,” I say.
“Thanks. Deo is a great teacher. I’m lucky I got into this program. I heard there were, like, five hundred applications for fifteen spots.” She raises her eyebrows. “I remember when I first showed up with my beat-to-hell board—my dad’s buddy found it for me cheap at a garage sale—Deo didn’t laugh at me or roll his eyes or anything. He said if I could work a piece of crap sled like that, imagine what I could do on a real board.”
“She kicks all our asses,” Darren says, coming up behind us to snag two sandwiches with his big hands. “Kona makes us look like a bunch of kooks.”
“Nah,” Kona says, blushing and taking another bite.
“You know it,” Darren says with a crooked smile. “One day I’ll brag about how I surfed a couple summers with the great Kona Dhani.”
Kona looks up at Darren, wipes the breadcrumbs off her mouth with the back of her hand, and shakes her head.
“Crazy talk,” she says with a hint of sadness in her voice. “Too bad my parents already have my life all planned out, and they’re pretty dead set on me being a doctor, not a surfer. Be
fore they even let me submit my application to do this program, I had to get straight As all year and convince them that surfing is just as much a sport as soccer or softball. They’re cool with me doing it as long as I could get a scholarship based on it.”
“Hey, you can totally be a surfing doctor,” Darren suggests, and they both laugh. “Um, I was gonna go check out the tide pools…”
Kona looks at him blankly.
“Maybe you want to go check them out, too,” I whisper, nudging her.
“Oh! Yeah. Tide pools. Right.” She jumps to her feet, brushing the last crumbs off her T-shirt, and the two of them head off, walking so close the back of their hands brush now and then.
“Playing Cupid?”
Cohen’s voice makes me jump out of my skin, then go hot all over.
“Cohen!” I put a hand over my thudding heart. “I didn’t even realize you were there.”
He sits down next to me and offers me a sandwich. I shake my head.
“Thanks, I already ate.” I clear my throat, suddenly wondering if I should follow Kona and Darren. I never really checked to see what my role as “chaperone” entails exactly. So I just ask. Better safe than sorry. “Should we follow them?”
“Nah.” Cohen glances at the pair, who’ve already been joined by two other kids. “Deo laid out the dos and don’ts for the night, and they’re all way too scared of getting kicked out of his program to break any rules. But when they’re back home? I hope Darren gets up the guts to finally ask Kona out.”
“So you’re a romantic at heart?” I ask, bumping his shoulder.
“No doubt.” He gives me a slow once-over that makes me feel like my skin is on fire. “Did you get sunburn?”
He looks so genuinely worried I have to laugh. “Um, I don’t think so.” I will myself to calm down and hope my blush fades. “Even if I look kind of pink, it’ll just turn into a million freckles by tomorrow morning.”
“I love freckles.” He says it almost off-handedly, like he’d say, “I love surfing” or “I love the beach.”
But this isn’t some random factoid. He’s talking about me. Specifically what he loves about me.
