Page 152 of Hooking Up
"I don't care what it is. It doesn't matter. It's not gonna change how I feel about you. I want you exactly as you are."
She blinks, dumbfounded. "Really?"
"Yeah." There's nothing Iris could tell me that would change how I see her.
"Okay. I…" She presses her lips together. "I guess we should get to it then."
"We should."
She motions to the board. "Do I have to do the push-up thing, again?"
"It's easier on land. We need to practice. Get the muscle memory."
"You just like watching me jump in a wet suit." There's still something heavy in her voice.
"It doesn't hurt." I motion to the board.
She rolls onto her stomach, does another pop-up. Sticks the landing.
We go through another dozen. Then a dozen more. She gets flushed and breathless. Fuck, she looks like she's melting.
I know I am. Wetsuits are fucking warm on the sand.
I pick up the board and point to the beach. It's quiet here. Only a few other surfers and a couple having a picnic. We're well into Malibu. Farther than we were last night. But…
I'm not going there right now. The beach is my happy place or some cheesy shit like that. It always clears my head. Helps me make sense of the world.
I lead Iris into the water. Get deep enough to drop the board, watch her climb onto, bring it past the break point.
The ocean is freezing against my hands and toes, but it feels good. Soothing. Invigorating.
I tread water with one hand on her board.
She turns her head to look me in the eyes. Uses her arm as a pillow. "This is relaxing." All that heaviness fades from her voice.
Fuck, that makes me warm all over.
I want this. I want to see that smile every fucking day.
The waves rock the surfboard back and forth. "Can I hang out like this forever?"
"Yeah."
"Really? You'll hang there all day?"
"You underestimate how much I love it here."
"That much?"
I nod. "The ocean is constant. Steady. It can kick your ass a million ways, but it's always there, wearing rocks into sand."
"When did you learn to surf?"
"A friend's birthday party. I was eleven or twelve. I lived at the pool in the summer. Begged my parents to take us to the beach every weekend."
"Did they?"
"Yeah. But they weren't into it. They'd argue over who's turn it was then sit there, under an umbrella, working."
