Page 80 of Ride the Wave

Professional, Iris, my sensible brain reminds me.Be professional.

I clear my throat, tucking my hair behind my ear. I’ve just remembered I’m not wearing any make-up anymore and I drop my eyes to the floor, blushing at my fresh-faced appearance. He’s used to seeing me with all my armour on.

‘I used your cleanser and a toothbrush; I hope that’s okay.’

‘Of course. Use whatever you like. I thought you might want some coffee,’ he says, gesturing to the mug.

Thoughtful as well as pretty. This isn’t fair.

Nodding, I press my lips together. ‘Thanks. Do you have to leave to surf?’

‘I’ve got about ten minutes before I need to go.’

‘I should be coming with you, but I’d need to go change and get my stuff,’ I say regretfully.See what happens when you act irresponsibly, Iris?You’re left facing a walk of shame and missing out on important research for the feature. ‘Are you surfing Burgau?’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m going to head to Zavial; there’s better swell there today.’

‘By the time I sort myself out and get there, I’d probably have missed a lot. I can use this morning to write instead, I guess.’ I hesitate, before asking hopefully, ‘Will you be surfing later today?’

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘I did have a lesson booked with a student of mine, but she’s suffered a minor foot injury so I guess she and I will have to fill that time with something else.’

I swallow. Okay, maybe he wasn’t giving himself the same pep talk as me in the kitchen. My heart rate quickens at the idea of a repeat of last night.

‘I meant, would you be training again later this afternoon or evening,’ I explain, my voice coming out a tad higher pitched than usual.

He seems unfazed by my awkwardness. ‘Probably not. I need to go to the gym some point this afternoon.’

‘Tomorrow morning?’

‘Should be.’ He nods.

‘Right. Good. I can come to that session before my flight. I should have time.’

We fall into silence. I’m not usually shy, but I feel self-conscious about the way he’s looking at me, his eyes roaming over me hovering in the doorway. Suddenly, the woman in the bathroom telling me to resist him feels like a stranger, a nag who’s out to ruin my life.

I desperately try to find my resolve.

‘So,’ I begin in as firm a voice I can muster, ‘we should talk about what happened.’

‘Okay.’

‘I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so how do you want to play this?’

He quirks a brow. ‘Play what, London?’

‘Well, in case you didn’t notice, we kind of crossed a line last night.’

‘I remember,’ he says with a cocky smile.

I respond with a stern look. ‘I shouldn’t have let it happen. I… should apologise.’

‘But we both knowthat’snot going to happen. And besides, I wouldn’t want you to.’ He folds his arms, his eyes fixed on me. ‘I don’t think either of us should apologise for what we did last night. Something that good should not be apologised for; it should be repeated.’

Fuck.

As I inhale sharply, he gives me a sultry look.

It’s so hard to think straight and take charge of a situation when he’s standing topless in front of me, reminding me of what we did and said, how he made me feel, how his lips made my skin tingle, how he felt inside me…

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