“What plan—”
I stand up, my arms flying out and touching his board as I cut him off, “Teach me.”
He follows me, brushing the sand off his hands. “Teach you? To surf?”
I cock my hip to the side, tilting my head. “Well yeah, what else would I be asking you to teach me?” His lips lift up into a slow and steady smirk. “No.” I shake my head in exasperation and point at him. “I can hear your thoughts from here.”
His eyes flash. “Yeah, well there’s a lot of things I could teach you.” He steps closer, the heat of his body seeping into my skin. “But, surfing? You really want to learn?”
“Hmmm.” I let my hand drop off his board, bringing it up to my lips and tapping the pad of my finger on them. “Are you saying you’re not capable of teaching me? Should I head on over to the rental hut and ask them if they have a guy that can—”
“Hey, hey, hey, I never said I couldn’t. It’s just…” He looks me up and down. “The sea is pretty cold, we’ll need to go get you a wetsuit. And my board isn’t for beginners, we’ll get you your own.”
I grin big and wide as he pulls his board out of the sand and I collect my things, pushing them all into my tote bag. He holds the board under his left arm while holding his other hand out, grasping mine as he pulls me along with him and toward one of the shops sitting along the path at the top of the beach.
The callouses on his palms rub against mine, causing a slight shiver to roll through me. How can he act like this one touch isn’t affecting him at all? Maybe it isn’t. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same heat flowing through my body when our skin touches. Maybe he doesn’t feel the spark seeming to ignite into a roaring fire whenever our bodies are only inches apart.
He lets go of my hand to stand his board outside the shop, placing it in the rack along with the other boards. The second his skin leaves mine, I feel the absence. But as soon as it’s gone it’s replaced and he drags me inside.
“You’ll need a wetsuit, a shorty like mine should do.” He stops and seems to be thinking for a second. “Your board needs to be a soft top foam board, we’ll size them up but you need to get one way bigger than you. Size matters.” He winks before he starts looking through rails of wetsuits, taking one off and putting it in front of me. “Here, this should fit. Wanna go try it on and I’ll grab some other things?”
I stare after him as he spins around, heading to another rack near the register, picking things up and placing them on the counter. I haven’t got a clue about any of the stuff he just said, and I have no idea what that is he just placed on the counter. A cuff?
I frown as I watch him piling things up before he catches my gaze and motions with his hands behind me. Spinning around, I see the changing room sign and head inside. Hooking my tote bag on the hook on the wall after closing the door, I unzip the suit and sit down on the small bench, taking my sandals off before pushing my feet into the leg holes and wrestling it up my body. After some serious huffing and puffing, I blow out a breath causing my hair to waft around my face. I feel like I just did a workout and I’m not even in the water yet.
Letting my arms flow to my sides, I take a look in the mirror. The suit hugs my thighs but is loose around the middle and when I tilt my head, I see I still need to do the zip up. There’s something attached to it which allows me to grab hold of it. I pull it all the way up, effectively turning me into walking spanks and sucking everything in.
I twist and turn, not liking how it clings to me. This is a bad idea, I shouldn’t do this.
As I’m about to pull the zipper down and take it off, I catch my eyes in the mirror. The chocolate brown seems brighter—warmer—than it has in weeks. Every time I’m around Nate he seems to take everything away, leaving only what is going on around us. He makes me feel like I can truly escape anything.
Pushing my shoulders back, I tell myself I can do this, even if it means him seeing every curve and dip of my body. Screw it.
Grabbing my bag off the hook and shoving my sandals in there, I push through the door and back into the main shop.
Nate is standing next to four different boards leaning against one wall, patiently waiting for me. His eyes slowly trail over my body before stopping briefly on my waist and then finally coming up to my eyes. They burn with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before.
“I—” His voice is croaky so he clears it before saying, “I see it fits perfectly.”
I swallow. “It does.” He watches me, his chest heaving on a breath. I shift under his attention before taking the several steps that separate us, his eyes stalking me. “So, the board?” I touch the white board that has three different-colored stripes down the middle. “Which one is best?”
“These four are perfect, you just need to see which fits you best when you try and carry it.”
“Right.” I trail my finger along the white one before moving in front of the most colorful one. I touch it where the yellow bleeds into red in the middle of the board before mixing with a royal blue at the bottom. “This one,” I say, looking from the board to Nate. “This is the one.”
I try it out, making sure I can carry it, and when Nate is satisfied we head over to the register, picking everything up as he nods to the man standing behind it.
“We haven’t paid,” I mumble as we walk out of the shop.
He looks back at me, rolling his eyes as we stop where his board is, ignoring what I said as he points to my bag on my shoulder.
“Want to put that in my car?”
“I…” His brow raises as my gaze flicks back to the shop and then him. “Yeah.”
He nods, still holding my hand and leading me over to a parking lot where there’s several cars parked. I don’t see any of his normal shiny expensive cars, but he stops at a royal-blue Land Rover, a tire attached to the back along with some kind of board and paddles on the roof.
He leans his board against the side of his car, his hand reaching up as his fingers skim along my arm over the suit and up to my shoulder, gently pulling the bag off and placing it inside the car.
“Ready?”
I push my shoulders back as he picks his board back up, readjusting my grip on my own board as my palms become clammy. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The twinkle of anticipation in her eyes has me lost in them for a second before I lead the way onto the beach. She starts to walk toward the water and I stop, digging my board in the sand and laughing.
“Where are you going?”
“The sea,” she deadpans. “To surf.”
I continue laughing as she walks back toward me. “All the gear, no idea.” I shake my head as she tries to dig her board into the sand beside mine, failing as it teeters and nearly falls on her. “Whoa!” I jump beside her. “Here, let me help.”
“No!” she shouts, gaining the attention of several passersby. “I’ve got it.” She huffs and puffs, trying her hardest to dig it into the ground. “Stupid sand,” she mutters under her breath.
“Alrighty then.” I put my hands up in surrender before placing them on my hips as I tilt my head to the side and watch her. “Can I just—”
“I said,” she growls, finally getting the board to stand in the sand on its own. “I’ve got it.” She flashes me a knowing grin before widening her stance as she waves her hand. “Continue forth, oh wise one.”
“First things first, you can’t go into the cold water without warming up. Tris would kill me if you went back injured.”
Her eyes widen at the sound of Tris’s name, the chocolate brown taking on a darker hue as she reaches forward, her hand not making contact as she says, “Can we erm…” She makes a noise in the back of her throat. “Do you think we could keep this between us?”
Between us? “It’s okay, I taught Tris how to surf, too. He knows I’m perfectly capable.”
“No, that’s not—I meant.” She sighs. “I mean this.” Waving her hands between the two of us, she continues, “Us being here… together. I told him I was going t
o the record store but if he knew I was here with you he might think it was planned.” She takes a much-needed breath. “And I don’t want him to think I’m—”
“Lying?”
She gives me a slight nod of her head and although I get what she’s saying, I don’t understand why. Why does she want to keep it a secret? It’s not like Tris doesn’t know we talk, that we’re kind of friends. He didn’t bat an eyelash when I told him I took her to the sports bar, so I’m almost certain he won’t care about this.
Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she worries it has me placating her as I say, “I get it.” She nods quickly, relieved. “I can be your dirty little secret.” I wink to lighten the mood and her face flushes. “Are you ready to warm up?” I ask, switching the conversation and distracting her fully.
Her chest lifts on a deep breath. “I guess so.”
I lead her in some easy stretches to get the blood flowing around our bodies and after my muscles feel ready, I place our boards opposite each other on the sand and point to hers. “Lie down on top of it.” I watch her as she lies down on it—back to the board. I try not to laugh but I can’t help it as it booms out around us.
“What?” Her tone is impatient as she looks up at me, her eyes narrowing.
“You… I...” I can’t get my words out and she rolls her eyes, sitting up. I get myself under control and drop down onto my board to show her how to do it—chest facing down. She watches me as I prop my hands under my chin and stare her down, trying not to laugh again.
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” I can see the playfulness in her eyes as she stands up and places her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I was trying to teach you how to… to...” She looks away, obviously trying to think of something.
“Shall I give you some thinking space? Because there’s nothing you could teach me I don’t already know.” I give her my cockiest grin.
The side of her lip quirks up. “I’ll find your weakness, Cole.”
She matches my cocky grin with one of her own and I find myself thinking it’s her: she’s my kryptonite and it’s taken me nearly six years to realize it. “Keep trying, babe.”
“You did not just ‘babe’ me,” she practically growls, fire shooting out of her eyes in my direction.
“Oh, but I did. Now lie down for me.” Her eyes bulge out and she purses her lips, looking like she’s thinking about saying something sarcastic back but instead she stays silent and drops down onto her stomach. “Great. Now we’re going to go over how to paddle when you’re on your board.”
I show her the correct body position so the board doesn’t fire out from underneath her and after she’s grasped that, I show her how to pop up.
“Are you sure that’s the foot you feel comfortable using?” She nods, her left foot in front of the other. “Awesome. Shall we catch some waves?”
“Is that surfer lingo?” She looks at me.
I laugh. “Not quite.” I pick up my board and start running toward the sea. “Try to keep up, babe.”
“Wait—what?” I hear the slapping sound of her feet behind me as they hit the wet sand, trying to keep up.
Grinning, I lay my board down, wading into the water with it beside me until I’m at a height I can get on it and paddle. I pretend like I’m storming ahead of her when in reality I’m going slow so I can keep an eye on her getting into the water.
I paddle away from the breaking point of the bigger waves and sit up on my board, watching as she paddles frantically toward me against the current. I laugh as she flails and topples off, the board popping up three feet away from where she disappeared, with her on its tail.
She coughs and the determination on her face to get back on the board has me staying where I am. When she eventually makes it over to me, I teach her how to sit up on the board without it toppling over. That she gets right away, much to my dismay.
“See, that wasn’t bad at all. You’re doing well for a Barney.”
“Purple dinosaur?” she asks, running her hands through her wet hair.
I get distracted wishing I could run my hands in the same path she just did before I look into her waiting eyes. “I… no. Not Barney the dinosaur.” I shake my head with a smile. “Never mind.”
Her gaze flits down before widening. “What’s that white stuff?” She points to my board as her back straightens and she looks down at her own board. “I don’t have any white stuff on mine!”
I hold in my snort as she shouts about “white stuff.” But when I see her chest heaving, I realize how serious she’s being. This is her first time in the water, I need to remember that.
“The ‘white stuff’ as you so eloquently put it, is wax. You don’t need it because your board has the traction here.” I rub the board by her legs. “See?”
“So I don’t need it?” she asks, her voice small.
I place my hand under her chin, getting her to look up at me. “I would never put you in any danger.” She takes a stuttering breath as she stares into my eyes. “No, you don’t need the wax.” I look behind me seeing the perfect starter wave form. I grin and turn back to her. “Are you ready for your first wave? Get down and start paddling, don’t worry about popping up just catch the wave for now. Okay?”
“Catch the wave?”
“When you feel your board lift, grab onto the sides and ride it to the shore.” I look behind me. “Paddle!”
“Ahhh!” she shouts, the sound of the water splashing next to me telling me she’s going for it.
I watch her paddle as the wave passes under her, taking her and her board with it toward the shore. She makes it all the way there, falling off at the very end as the wave breaks on the sand.
She stands up and wipes her face, turning toward me with her hands in the air. I throw mine up, cheering, and she does too, until I remember she’s tethered to her board. My hands go to my mouth as her board pulls her back into the sea and she grabs onto it, spluttering as she pulls it onto the beach.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, “Are you okay?”
She leans back on the sand and puts up both her thumbs; she’s a tough cookie, but it’s time to show her how a real surfer does it.
I paddle back out to the bigger waves, duck diving under the breaking point. I blow out a breath and keep paddling as I reach the surface of the water, sitting back up and waiting for a wave. I’m not waiting long before I see my opening.
I turn my board to face the beach and start paddling until I’m at the top of the wave. I pop up at the right moment and pick up speed as I surf down the barrel toward the narrow opening at the end of the breaking point barely making it out without making an ass of myself.
Making it in one piece, I bail into the water after shooting a wave to Amelia who is now standing at the edge of the sand, shielding her eyes with her hand.
Once I’ve paddled back to shore, I drag my board out of the water and set it beside hers.
“Wow,” she whispers, awe in her voice. “That was… amazing.” She looks back out onto the water, her eyes shining with excitement. “I want to go again!” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply as she runs back toward the water.
My lips lift up into an uncontrollable grin as I follow after her, getting into the water as she starts paddling deeper into the ocean. For the next hour she rides small waves, each one ending with a cheer from both of us. She goes under the water more times than I can count, but it doesn’t matter because each and every time she comes up spluttering, she gets back onto the board.
“I love this!” she shouts when she sits on top of the board, coming up next to me as we float in the calming waters. “I think—” She’s cut off as her chest heaves with a hiccup, her hand slapping on her wetsuit. “Argh, I hate hiccu—”
Another one racks her body and she tilts forward, losing her balance and almost toppling off the board. I reach out, bracing my core and catching her arm. “Alright, mermaid. Shall we call it a day and get back on dry land?”
>
“Ye—” She growls when she hiccups again, her nose wrinkling.
I chuckle and push her board forward. “Come on then.”
We drag our boards onto the sand and I walk with mine away from the sea, placing it down and removing the ankle cuff of the leash. She does the same and lies down in the sand.
“I’m pooped,” she groans, her chest lifting on another hiccup as she stretches her arms above her head before sitting up. “I should probably get going, I’m not sure what time the buses stop.”
I flip onto my stomach, letting the sand sieve through my fingers. “What do you mean, buses?”
She turns her head, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “I took the bus this morning.”
She stands up and I jump to my feet. “Why didn’t you drive? It’s so much quicker.”
She huffs out a breath, her shoulders pulling back. “What is it with you men? Like I constantly tell Tris: that car is for work use when I have the kids.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember Tris saying he bought you that car.” She narrows her eyes. “But whatever, you’re not taking the bus home. I’ll drive you.”
“No, no. It’s fine, I can…” she trails off as I step past her, grabbing both of our boards. “Come on, we’ll get the boards strapped onto the rack of my car.”
“Okay,” she finally relents, walking beside me as we make our way back to my car, the sound of her hiccups echoing around us. “Goddammit, I hate these things.”
I chuckle as I attach both boards to the top of my Land Rover, grabbing my clothes and towel out of the car and handing Amelia her bag. Pointing over to the small wooden shacks for people to change in, I say, “You can dry off and change in there. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Sure.” Spinning around, she starts to walk toward the shack and I can’t help my gaze trail down her body, taking in every dip and curve it displays. She seems to be unaware of the several sets of gazes following her, as if she’s so focused on the task at hand nothing else matters. That or she’s completely oblivious to the effect she has on guys.
Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2) Page 8
