Page 54 of A Winding Wave of Magic
I grabbed my board and made for where I’d left my things at the base of a nearby boulder. If I was cold before, I was freezing now, five-millimeter suit or not. My waterlogged ponytail dripped unpleasantly down the back of my neck, and water squished in my booties with every step. Not exactly formidable.
Bristling, Jonathan followed. I didn’t need to be a seer to feel the anger emanating from his body, and it only irritated me more.
“There are all sorts of creatures out there, Cassandra. Things that could seriously hurt you.”
“Correct. Sea life exists. I don’t need you to mansplain the ocean to me,Jonathan.” I zipped my board into its bag, movingas quickly as my numbed fingers could manage. “Most of the sharks here are around the Seaside breaks and about the size of my forearm. The worst I might see is a seal or two, and they’re harmless.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“Seals?” His voice morphed into a full screech. “Are you completely mad? Do you have any idea what a thing like that could do to someone like you?”
“Seals? Really? They’re basically the puppies of the sea.” I shook my head to the side to release some water from one ear. “Actually, I take that back. Otters are puppies—they’re the cutest. Seals are more like full-grown dogs. They even bark.”
His mouth fell so far open that I spotted a silver cavity gleaming in the farthest molar. “You cannot be so dim. What has Penny been teaching you out here?”
I looked up sharply. “Hey. There’s no need for that.”
For once, he looked slightly remorseful. “I’m sorry. I only meant—I was surprised, because of—” His mouth clamped shut, and he didn’t finish the sentence.
I stood up straight. “Because of what? Your phobia of the ocean? Or Penny’s?” Guilty twinged in my chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that about someone who just died, but it was true. She was weirdly terrified of the ocean and seals too for someone who’d grown up with both.”
Suddenly, I was mad. Livid, in fact. I was angry at him for shouting at me for no apparent reason. And furious at Penny for feeling the same way, for sending this person after me to begin with, for dying, of all things.
I grabbed my board bag and shoved it over my bag, unwilling to engage in this conversation anymore. Jonathan was wise enough not to speak as I zipped everything up and started back to the car.
By the time we reached the lot, I was seething too, even with the shivering that had taken over my body. Jonathan followed me all the way to my car as if to ensure that I wasn’t going to run back down to the beach as soon as he turned around.
“Excuse me.” I pushed him aside to unlock the trunk and pull out the plastic box that carried my suit and towels. A wet handprint appeared on his Barbour jacket along with the irritation that flew through his fingertips. I smirked, too satisfied with mussing the impeccable Mr. Lynch to consider the anxiety that had also filtered through my touch.
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with out there,” he started again, this time with the more measured, superior tone I had heard before.
But while he had managed to come down, I hadn’t.
“Oh my g-gods, stop!” I snapped, my intended curtness thwarted by yet another shiver-induced stutter. “I’ve b-been surfing for literally t-wenty y-years—first in Pendleton with my father, and then h-here after he was gone. I th-think I have s-some idea. Certainly b-better than y-you!”
I emptied my gloves and booties of seawater and tossed them into the bin, then reached for the zipper to peel off my wetsuit. Soon I was in just my bikini, and my pale skin puckered into goosebumps while I rooted around the trunk for a towel. So much for appearing tough—I probably resembled a plucked chicken more than a badass surfer.
Jonathan scowl. “You, of all people, should know…” he began again, then seemed to think better of it and pulled his lips abruptly together.
“W-what does that even mean, me of all people? Listen, m-man, I don’t know who you think you are, but giving my grandmother a hug and writing her will doesn’t give you the right to b-boss me around.”
I thought I could see his mouth twitch out of the corner of my eye as I continued to search my car for something to cover me up. “Cassandra?—”
“N-No! I’m serious! You’re all s-secretive, and won’t tell me a th-thing, and it’smygrandmother who died! What are you even doing here, anyway? Did you stalk me to the beach too?”
“Of course not. But, Cass, will you please put some bloody clothes on!”
He was no longer looking at me, but instead glaring at the trees, like he couldn’t bear to see me in so little.
I wasn’t anything special. Middling height with pale skin that reddened in the cold. But my body was strong from all the time I spent in the water, and filled its purpose well.
Still, I blushed. Iblushedat the thought of this eminently useful body putting Jonathan Lynch off his game. And then I hated myself for it.
The yellow corner of my towel peeked out from under the bin. I yanked it so hard that everything clattered to the pavement, making Jonathan jump.
“Gods dammit!” Ignoring the mess, I wrapped myself in the towel, then marched around the car to change into the dry clothes I’d left in the front.
Jonathan’s green eyes met mine over the roof, and this time they burned.
