Page 42 of Say It Slowly

Let’s see how well the devil surfs.

As soon as I get to the private beach, I see him in the distance. Well, I’m assuming it’s him. The person is too far away to see much detail. But he’s wearing a wetsuit, sitting atop a surfboard, waiting patiently for the next wave to come.

I find a spot on the sand, and watch while I eat my bagel. Icy wind whips around me, and I shiver a little. My feet are freezing, and I suddenly regret not wearing actual shoes.

After a bit, a wave curls up from the horizon, and I see Roman perk up. As the wave approaches, he paddles out to it, turning his board to face the beach, just as the wave catches him. He pops up onto his feet, and rides the wave like it’s nothing. But I’ve been out there myself, and I know how hard it is. He moves gracefully through the water, the surfboard rocking underhis feet. Roman and the water are one fluid entity, completely cohesive.

When he’s ridden out the wave, he hops off the board, and starts heading toward the shore.Oh, fuck. He must have seen me, and now he’s going to demand to know why I’m here.

As soon as he’s out of the water, he unzips the top-half of his wetsuit, exposing his tanned, muscled torso. Yikes. Then he tucks his shortboard under his arm, and jogs up to me on the sand. His hair is wet, and when he rakes a hand through it, something inside me purrs like a kitten.

Dayum.

Do I have a thing for surfers now?

I hadn’t considered it before, but he looks so fucking hot in that wet suit, a surfboard under his arm, water beaded on his beautiful face…

“What are you doing here?” he asks once he’s close enough to be heard over the crashing waves.

Yup. Knew it.

I shrug, chewing a bite of bagel. “Jackson said you’d be out here. I wanted to see you surf. Is that not allowed?”

He pulls the leash off his ankle, and sits down next to me.

“Wanna bite?” I ask, offering him the last half of my bagel. He takes it and devours the whole thing in one swallow. “Hey! I saida bite,not theentirething,” I squeak, swatting him.

“Sorry, not sorry,” he says with a cheeky smile, reaching over to wipe something off the corner of my mouth with his thumb. It’s a bit of cream cheese, and he licks it off his own thumb, eyeing me as he does it.

Has it suddenly gottenreallyhot out here?

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly, and then we just kind of lapse into silence, each looking out over the water, listening to the waves.

After a few minutes, he finally speaks. “I come out here when I need to think. Figure things out,” he says in a rare moment of candor.

“Ah,” I say nodding, glancing out at the churning ocean. “And here I thought you had life all figured out already,” I say. “What could you possibly need to think about?”

Dare I hope he feels guilty about stealing all my stuff and forcing me to live with him? Is that asking too much?

He shakes his head, and glances down, arms braced on his knees. “What happened with Nicole last night?” he asks.

I swallow. I should have known someone would tell him about my little outburst with Nicole and the Ramen. I purse my lips. “She pissed me off, and…” I shrug. “I handled it.”

He laughs, and glances at me, his gaze colliding with mine. “What happened?” he asks again, but there’s no anger in his voice.

I sigh. “She was running her mouth, called me trash or something, so I told her to leave.”

“She called youtrash?” He looks pissed. Infuriated, even.

“Yeah, you know, this might surprise you, but the girls in your circle are all rich and beautiful, and I don’t think they like the fact that someone like me could snag someone like you.”

“So you kicked her out,” he says, clarifying.

“Some other stuff happened first, but yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

Honestly, I don’t even know why he’s asking me about this. I’m sure the Debs have already filled him in on every gory detail of what happened.

I wait for him to lecture me about how to treat the other members of the circle, but he just shrugs. “You’re the queen of the castle,” he says easily. “And occasionally the members need to be put in their places.”

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