Page 8 of Surfer Girl

“Uh, the full-length mirror right before you showed up today.”

“I think it’s just right,” Jessie assured her in a guarded, murmuring tone that bordered on sultry.

Sophie groaned, choosing to ignore the mixed messages. “God, I’m sticking out all over. You can even see my tan lines. I should have just gone with the one-piece like I wanted to.”

“What?” Jessie blurted. “And hide those ripe, luscious curves away from the world? And besides, I think tan lines are…sexy.”

Sophie all but snorted, as surprised by the comment as she was the flattering tone. She’d been called many things in her lifetime—curvy, full-figured, zaftig, even Rubenesque—but never ripe, to say nothing of…luscious. “You say curves,” she huffed, avoiding Jessie’s eyes pointedly. “I say fat.”

Jessie shoved her playfully on the shoulder, sending her back a step or two in the warm, smooth sand. “You take that back right now, Sophie,” she huffed dramatically, even as she let out a playful growl. “I don’t let my surf students talk about themselves that way, let alone my…friends.”

“Sorry, force of habit, I guess. My stepdad’s some kind of triathlete obsessive fitness lunatic and he’s been on me for years to lose weight. My mom, having converted to Lunatic Land, doesn’t object. So…swimsuit season always carries a lot of baggage with it.”

“My mom’s the same way,” Jessie commiserated. “Even though I don’t live with her anymore, she’s still always on me to count calories and skip the iced mochas.”

Sophie was literally gobsmacked. “You? You have the perfect body. I mean…if you don’t mind me saying so, of course.”

Jessie’s blush was hard to ignore. Almost as hard to ignore as that perfect body of hers. “Far from it, but…thanks just the same.” They endured a momentary pause between joint flattery. “Besides,” Jessie added with another slow gaze up and down Sophie’s perfectly imperfect physique. “If you could see yourself the way I do, you’d never listen to your stepdad again.”

The compliment simmered in the highly charged air, leaving Sophie reeling in the vague hopes that it might be, could be, possibly be true. It had been so long since she’d felt attractive to herself, and even longer since she’d felt attractive to anyone else. The thought that a stunner like Jessie, so limber and sleek and athletic, could consider her even remotely appealing made the already outrageous afternoon even more surreal.

“Anyway,” Jessie was saying as they approached the waves, as if to steer clear of any added sexual tension before they entered the surf, lest the water sizzle and fume away to pure steam upon entry. “I can’t imagine someone growing up in Siesta Beach and never learning how to surf.”

“My stepdad wanted me to play team sports, obviously,” Sophie explained ruefully, wishing she’d followed her heart—and the rest of the hot chicks heading out to the beach after school every day—and learned how to surf all those years instead.

Jessie nodded, patiently, those green eyes shimmering coolly in the afternoon sun. “Still, summers? Spring breaks? You never chilled at the beach with your friends?”

“I mean, we lived on the beach, so obvi but…” Sophie recalled her turbulent high school years, the desperate longings and buried fantasies, never to be acted upon, at least until years later when she had finally escaped Siesta Beach for good.

Or so she’d thought…

Jessie must have felt the awkward silence. “But what, Sophie?” Her voice was soft and low, so quiet the crashing, foamy waves almost buried the muted question.

Sophie met those kind, green eyes and offered a shy smile of her own. “Nothing, it’s just…well, I’ve never been all that good at making friends.”

Jessie gave her another good once over. “You?” she teased. “Not good at making friends? Was this before they invented coffee in a can, perhaps? Because I’ve never met a more friendly property owner in my life!”

They both chuckled, Sophie nervously, Jessie radiantly. Either way, Sophie was glad for the quick burst of laughter and the way her new friend deftly changed the subject from awkward teen angst to the present.

As if to ensure her new surf student was gonna be okay, Jessie nudged her playfully with her narrow hip, pale flesh warm to the touch—and no wonder. Their skin was flushed from the sun, having already spent close to an hour with their boards in the sand, lying flat and standing up, then lying flat and standing up some more.

Practice, Jessie called it.

More like torture. Sophie was already sore, and they’d only now just stepped foot into the ocean for the first time all day, the soft, foamy water caressing her feet almost tenderly.

Jessie noted her trepidation and put a gentle hand out to stop Sophie’s progress. It felt warm and sandy on Sophie’s flushed skin. “You don’t have to do it all on your first lesson,” she said, making Sophie smile. “We’ve got all summer, right?”

Sophie nodded, then took a breath. “I know, but I’ve waited this long, and you’ve been so patient, so…I’m game if you are?”

Jessie winked, an intimate gesture, and squeezed her arm, an even more intimate one. “Follow me then!” she exclaimed, and Sophie was only too glad to do as she was told. That is, once she’d had her fill of admiring her surf instructor’s taut derriere as it bounded into the surf, one ripe, glistening jiggle at a time.

The water was colder than it looked, but not for long. After Jessie had taught Sophie to dive under the first rush of waves, and not over them, she emerged on the other side of the froth, drenched and smiling as if she’d already learned how to surf.

The saltwater felt good on her skin, on her lips, even up her nose! Had it really been a whole year since she’d gone swimming in the sea? She shook her head, pledging never to go that long between salt water up her nose again.

Once they had reached the flat landscape of the ocean, Sophie followed Jessie’s example in sitting on top of her board. “Remember what I taught you,” she said as they sat, sideways, eyes ever lurking for the next rolling swell. “You can’t wait for the wave to come to you, Sophie. You have to beat it to the punch!”

As if on cue, Sophie felt a smooth, deep swell begin to roll behind her. She turned, panicking, and paddled with all her might. But it was too late. The wave crashed just beneath her, all the energy drained out of it before she’d even thought about kneeling, let alone standing. She rode it, still lying down, until she could slide off the board in complete humiliation, turn around and duck dive beneath the next frothy set of breaking waves to return to Jessie’s side, drenched and defeated.

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