Page 289 of Rock Me All Night
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IfollowDrew to his car. Thank goodness for my love of walking. If I had to deal with taking my car home before I get my arms around him, I think I'd go insane.
He opens the passenger door for me, bowing gentlemanly.
"Thank you." I offer him my hand in a ladylike gesture.
He plants a kiss on the back of my hand then turns my arm and plants a kiss on the inside of my wrist. It tickles. I giggle, kicking my feet against the seat so I won't squeal.
He catches the skin of my inner wrist between his teeth. "You're distracting me, Kendrick. It's not time for that yet."
"Then get in. I want my surprise."
He smiles as he slides into the driver's seat. "You trust me?"
I nod. I do.
He pulls out of the parking garage, rolls the windows down, blasts The Beach Boys. The song fits the weather. The sky is blue. The sun is shining. It's hot, especially for this time of year.
We take the curves of Sunset all the way to Pacific Coast Highway. Drew has one hand intertwined with mine, the other on the wheel. Mostly, he looks at the road. There's something about his expression when he looks at me.
Almost like he's nervous.
But that can't be possible. I've never seen him nervous.
The ocean sparkles under the bright sun. If it was a poster it would be calledFreedomorSerenityor evenParadise.
We drive for an hour. Until we're way into Malibu, way past where Miles lives. We turn left, toward a side street. There are mansions here. All of them open onto the sand. Lucky owners live on the beach in Malibu. They probably spend two hours a day commuting but they live on the fucking sand.
Drew parks into the driveway of a two-story white-and-blue house. He pulls a keychain from the pocket of his jeans and nods to the house. "It's ours for the day."
"What?"
"I rented it." He gets out of the car and pulls an overnight back from the backseat. "Technically, it's ours until tomorrow afternoon, though we'll probably be halfway to San Francisco by then."
"But why?"
He motions for me to follow him. We go straight to the backyard. It's enclosed by a tall gate on two sides. The last, the one that looks out on the ocean, is glass.
It's on the sand. The backyard is on the sand. There are lounge chairs and umbrellas. There's even a cabana.
He drops the overnight bag inside the cabana and pulls the curtain closed. We're as good as alone.
The air smells like salt. The waves are crashing in the distance. There's no mistaking that we're at the beach.
Drew's eyes find mine. "I brought both your swimsuits. I brought half your clothes. Enough that you can pick out what you wear." He pulls the curtain to peek out at the ocean. "There are no private beaches in Southern California. This is as close as it gets."
The beachisquiet. There are surfers about half a mile south, but there's no one close enough to see us in detail.
In theory, I can wear whatever the fuck I want without worrying about anyone seeing my scars.
In theory.
He kneels down to unzip the bag. "This is for you, Kara. You don't want to swim, we won't swim. You only want to swim in your clothes, then I'm going to be next to you getting my fucking jeans drenched. You want to stay right here and come on my face..." He unzips my jeans. "More than happy to oblige."
"The water must be freezing."
"Probably." He shifts back to his feet. "I got you something. Technically, it's for me, but I think you'll like it."
