Page 28 of Whispers on the Water

I can hear the smile in his voice and nibble on my lip. Even without sex, I truly regret not going home with him. Seeing his happy face while he regales me with a story from his youth feels like everything that’s missing from my sheltered life.

“Peace Corp? Weren’t you a cop?”

His laugh crackles through the line. “Not at eighteen. Truth be told, that dream came much later.” There’s a muffled sound on the phone as if he’s switching to his other ear. “We had beers and a campfire right there on the beach. It was perfect. Just us and the waves. But that’s also when I got stung on my ass.”

Laughing, I slap a hand to my forehead. “But there’s no lifeguards there!”

“Trust me, I know. My whole ass was on fire and my buddies had to carry me back to the hotel. Spent the second night soaking my sore tush in the bathtub under the hottest water I could manage.”

Being a surfer means thrill but also danger. Everyone thinks that sharks are constantly looking for their next human snack, but the real everyday risk is stingrays and broken legs from jumping off a board in the shallows. “I’ve never been stung. Does that make me a kook?”

“It’s a rite of passage, Sam! No, this won’t do; we need to get you stung and fast.”

I shake my head, switching the phone to my other ear. “Just call me a kook ‘cause I’m not interested in that.”

“Kooky-Sam. I like that. Can I find you tomorrow for a surf?”

“Nope. We’re taking things slow, remember?”

He lets out a sigh and I can perfectly picture the way his brow furrows when he’s upset. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

After we say our goodbyes, I let the phone drop to the floor, laughing to myself. I’m completely smitten. He has this way of talking, always finding the right thing to say to make me laugh or feel at ease. No one has ever tempted me with a risqué picture or a voice like sweet, sweet chocolate over the phone. Greg’s turning into something I can’t quite describe, but I’m quickly growing addicted to. Getting up, I tiptoe to the bathroom to clean up, his delicious abs and beautiful voice still on my mind.

Chapter eighteen

Greg

I’m sitting at a coffee shop with a large, iced tea, sipping at it while I wait. It’s been two days since Sam, and I had our date and things are going… slow. Like snail on tranquilizers slow. Every so often, I get a text from her but anytime I try to see her or call, she’s ‘busy.’

This is exactly why I have called in reinforcements. Since Tommy seemed to be okay with our relationship, I was up at the crack of dawn to find him at the most popular local surf spot. Five men were in the water, and I am smart enough to know, I wasn’t allowed in. I might be able to catch a green wave, and bottom turn, but there are some places that don’t let anything less than a pro into the lineup.

If I did try to paddle out, its entirely possible that I would end up with a cut leash or black eye. So instead, I played the part of fan boy. Waiting on the beach and watching. When Tommy came out of the ocean, I quickly asked if we could meet for a coffee. Though Tommy furrowed his brow at the question, he eventually agreed.

And now I’m here, my foot tapping on the ground as I try to let the beautiful ocean breeze calm me. The coffee shop is a few blocks from the beach, but not far enough that the cooling effects of the ocean are lost. The rest of the shop is empty, even the cashier went to the back when she figured out I wasn’t going anywhere.

I see Tommy through the large front window, sunglasses on, hair still damp. When he steps through the door, his eyes land on me and he gives me a nod. My nerves skyrocket at the sight of him. So maybe I wasn’t playing the part of fanboy while watching him surf. The guy is a total natural and his aloof nature is addicting.

He takes a seat next to me. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” I say back, lamely. Tommy picks at a chuck of surf wax on his elbow for a moment, and I remain silent.

“So?” he asks.

I fluff the hair on the back of my head. “So…”

When Tommy lets out a booming laugh, I narrow my eyes his way but he just waves his hand at me. “God, this is awesome. Dude, you’re like, smitten.”

My face heats. “Yeah, okay, no need to celebrate it.”

Reaching out, Tommy snags my ice tea and takes a drink. Didn’t know we were there yet, but I say nothing. He sets the cup down and smacks his lips before leaning back with a smug expression. “Alright, I’m ready. Hit me.”

Hit him is right. He’s far too amused by my suffering. “It’s been three days and she hasn’t said anything.”

“And?”

“And I’m fucking dying over here!” I say, the words coming out louder than I want.

He arches an eyebrow and sits up straighter. “So, what are your moves?”

---