Page 20 of Britta & the Beach Boy
I smile, though, when I see who it is.
“You should have told her to bring something warm to wear. Bit chilly out here this morning,” I say in a low voice before waving back to my “company.”
Without being asked, Archie makes his way to the security guard, who’s blocking Stella and Britta from approaching. At the same moment, I’m hit with a sense of relief. This is the first thing that’s gone right for me today.
Britta is here.
Chapter eight
Britta
Dex and I lock eyes as Stella and I step past the security guard with Archie. I hear a distant introduction between Archie and Stella, although Stella makes it clear she knows who he is as soon as she calls him Dylan, his character’s name onSurf City High.
I stay focused on Dex. His lip pulls into a slight grin, as though he’s happy to see me, but he’s holding back just how happy. So, I temper my own excitement.
The closer we get, the harder I have to work to keep my smile in check and my eyes on his face rather than his bare chest. I succeed at only one of those things, and it’s not keeping my eyes up.
Dex has peeled off his wetsuit to his waist, and I have a front-row seat to a water show that could rival the spouting-fountain shows set to music at any fancy Vegas hotel. Tiny droplets fall from the tips of his brown curls to his tan shoulders. There, the hardiest of the drops continue their journey down his pecs, then his abs, all the way to… whatever he has on under his form-fitting, neoprene work of wonder.
Do surfers wear anything under their wetsuits?
I immediately banish the question. Totally inappropriate. None of my business. I will never say that out loud. Ever.
“Did you already surf, Dex?” Stella asks when we’re within a few feet.
Dex drags his eyes from me to her. “Yeah.”
“Really?” Stella’s face drops. “We left at five—maybe a little after—but it was crazy getting down here. Then it took forever to find a place to park. We had no idea there would be this many people here!”
I let her do the talking while I go back to Dex’s water show. I can’t say whether it’s true that watching paint dry is boring, but I can confirm that watching water dry on Dex’s chest and shoulders isn’t boring at all.
National Geographic could do a whole, award-winning documentary on the phenomenon.
While Stella goes into too much detail about traffic and parking, people pass Dex with a wave and a “tough break, man.” Or “hope you can get back out there soon.”
Then Stella asks, “Do you wear anything under that wetsuit?”
“Stella!” I hope the shock in my voice covers any anticipation in my face, because a beat of silence follows where we both wait for Dex to answer.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dex is full-on grinning now, but before he can answer, Archie steps protectively in front of him.
“Sorry, you girls came all the way down here for nothing. We just got word competition’s been called off for the day.” He crosses his arms, going into bodyguard mode again. A tall, lanky, not-very-scary bodyguard.
“We did?” Dex asks.
“I got a message from the Judges’ box.” Archie points toward a two-story structure that’s as much windows as wood and full of people wearing headphones, looking at computer screens. “You’ll be able to repeat the heat. They’re deciding whether Jack gets to keep his first score. They’ll announce everything soon.”
Dex gives Archie a high five.
“Called off?” I direct my question to Dex, since seeing Archie in person has only confirmed that he didn’t want us to come.
“Shark sighting.” Dex shrugs like he’s talking about a puppy and not the many-toothed, man-eating monster of the sea.
“Shark sighting? Like, someone saw a shark in the ocean?” I point to the large body of water that’s hidden by the event tents and stands in front of us. “That ocean right there?”
Dex laughs. “That’s the one.”
“But nobody was out there, right?”
