I sit down where he indicates, and he sits next to me. Now the side of our knees are brushing, the light hair on his leg slightly ticklish.
“You know how to do that?” He says, pointing to a set of kids bodysurfing in the waves.
“Of course.”
“You want to teach me?”
“Really?”
“I’ve always wanted to know how.”
“Let’s do it then.”
He stands and starts to peel off his polo.
“Oh,” I say, dragging my eyes away from his chest, which is a bit pale but defined. “Now?”
“I have a break.”
“Great.”
I turn away and pull my coverup over my head, with my heart quickening. I didn’t think about being in a bathing suit in front of him when I got ready to come to the beach. My cheeks are already burning at the thought of it.
“Ready?” Fred asks.
I turn around. He’s taken off his khakis too, revealing a blue and white striped bathing suit that sits low on his hips. They’re narrow and his stomach is flat and … Stop looking at it, Olivia. Eyes up!
I meet his amused glance and turn a darker shade of red. Then I turn on my heel and sprint toward the water, yelling over my shoulder. “Last one in pays for snacks!”
We spend ten minutes in the waves as I show him how to wait for the perfect arc, when to lift your feet up and swim. He’s strong in the water, his strokes sure, and he picks it up almost immediately. We catch the perfect wave and surf it in together, laughing with delight as it dumps us on the sand. He helps me stand up, holding onto my wrists longer than necessary. Our eyes lock, and a shiver of something goes through me, making my arms turn to gooseflesh.
“Again?” I say, and it takes him a moment to answer.
“I have to get back, but … tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
The next day we head right to the water and swim out past the wave break. It’s a placid day, and we tread next to each other in the gentle surf, enjoying the sun and the calm.
“Who introduced you to the His Dark Materials series?” he asks as a wave pushes him closer to me. We’re facing each other, and our swirling legs keep touching. Even though the water’s calm, I’m out of breath. “Most people I know have never heard of those books.”
“My mom. She …” A lump forms in my throat. “She got sick a couple of years ago, and she spent a lot of time reading because it made her feel better.”
Fred’s eyes darken, and he reaches out to touch my arm. “Is she okay?”
“No, she died.”
“Oh, Olivia, I’m sorry. I know how hard that is.”
“You do?”
A gentle wave comes in, pushing us up, then down. When it passes, we’re almost in an embrace. I can feel his breath on my face, our eyes level. I count his freckles to keep myself from kissing him.
“Yeah. My dad … he died two years ago this September.”
“I’m sorry, Fred.” I put my hand on his arm this time, and it tightens beneath my grip, supporting me in the water. “Was he sick?”
“He was a firefighter. One day, his luck ran out.”