Page 18 of Beach B!tch
8
Brinley
The next morning I got ready for my rehab date, which I kept calling it in my head since it made me feel less nervous, all the while spending way too much time debating what to wear. I expected to exercise, so I had to dress casually, but it was also kind of a date, so I debated if I should I wear make-up.
I was quick to remind myself that I should be focused on what upper body workout I'd be doing to keep my shoulders in shape for killer jump serves, but instead, I was debating the appropriate footwear for a workout-but-kind-of-a-date: functional but still sexy. I mean, nothing says sexy like a nice cross-trainer shoe, amiright?
Don't even get me started on my hair. Up or down? Curled or straight? I decided not to decide and just pulled back the front in a couple well placed braids secured with a bazillion pins and left the rest down my back.
This was why I didn't date. Okay, fine, there were lots of reasons why I didn't date, but this was going on the list. It took way too much time to put myself together, and I didn't appreciate how unsure of myself I really was when it came to impressing a hot guy. Volleyball was so much easier...there were rules to tell you what to do and I was damn good at it.
But then I remembered the sound of Dean's laugh. Like an idiot, I'd dropped a lame joke yesterday, and he'd thrown his head back and laughed. I expected some kind of deep, guy laugh, but what came out was more like a guffaw, followed by a straight up giggle. Dean was tall, and muscular, and dark, and gorgeous, and a fucking lifeguard.
And he giggled. Giggled! Like an actual school girl.
Remembering that giggle made my stomach go all melty and I full-body yearned to be around him. I'd never had a reason to use the term 'yearned' but I now understood what it felt like. I wanted his nearness to talk to him, to hear his voice, to give him reasons to giggle again. I was obsessed with volleyball, but I was realizing that I could become obsessed with multiple things, like having close girlfriends, Jiu Jitsu, and mostly, Dean.
Hair and outfit decided after way too much wasted time, I parked my car along Main Street, right by the pier and fed the meter. I crossed PCH and saw his tall, dark form standing by the stairs. My steps faltered for a moment as I allowed myself the luxury of studying his form without the normal nervousness I felt when trying to hold up my end of a conversation with him.
The man was flat out gorgeous.
Thick dark hair, cut short on the sides and long on top. Deep, dark skin that hinted at an Italian or even Greek ancestry. The boy had sexy muscles all over, hinting that he did more than just the activity at his jobs. His clothes were sporty and stylish, but not overly done like he spent hours coordinating his outfit.
Perhaps for the first time in my life, I wanted to rub myself along this man's body and feel those muscles up close. Maybe taste a bit of that dark skin. Use my teeth on the spot right above the collar of his t-shirt...right against his neck. Feel up what he hid behind his board shorts every day.
I'd just gotten into my daydream and picturing myself doing all those things when he pivoted, spotting me standing there like an idiot. He smiled at me and I feared he knew precisely what mischief I was up to in my head. Heat crept up my face even as I smiled and lifted my hand to wave hello.
"He's just a friend, he's just a friend," I muttered to myself as I jolted out of my sexy times daydream and approached Dean.
"What'd you say?" he asked with a friendly smile.
"Oh, just thinking out loud. I do that sometimes," I answered with an embarrassed shrug. Great, I'd started this thing out awkward, like I'd feared. We began walking down the strand, side by side.
"Well, that's good. It's hard to figure out what you ladies are thinking sometimes, so that'll make things easier on me." His grin grew, and he nudged me with his elbow.
"Oh, I doubt anything about me will be easy..." I meant I was a hard girl to date, but I was afraid it came out all wrong. Although it is true, I wasn't easy to get into bed, either. It's just that I didn't mean that. Oh, whatever. My face was red again, and I wasn't sure there was any blood left in my body for my muscles.
Dean threw his head back and laughed his guffaw/giggle. I smiled along with him and figured the embarrassment was worth it if I got to hear that laugh again.
"That's one of the things I love about you," Dean admitted once he'd recovered. He looked over at me from the corner of his eye, gauging my reaction to his admission.
"Ha! You love I'm difficult?" I gave him one raised eyebrow. No one truly liked difficult. "If you're gonna feed me a line, make it a believable one, Dean"
"It's not a line, Brinley. I've dated lots of women who are happy, pleasant, easy...and boring. You've got depth and layers, and things I want to explore, and you sure as shit aren't boring. I happen to like that. Take the compliment." His expression darkened and the lightheartedness I felt a moment ago was quickly dissipating. I had to think quick and get him back on the path to another of those fantastic giggles.
"We barely know each other. And I haven't been super friendly to you, so I find it hard to believe you find my behavior attractive," I explained, hoping I hadn't already ruined our quasi-date.
"Can I be honest with you without you running away from me?" Dean asked, looking straight ahead at the path, still not meeting my eye.
"I do prefer honesty and I promise not to run away. Pinky swear." I held out my pinky to him. He finally looked over at me, his eyes dropping to my outstretched pinky. He wrapped his pinky around mine, the smile returning to his face. Then he grabbed my hand in a lightning fast maneuver and twirled me around so that my back was against the railing along the pathway.
He stepped up so that his legs tangled with mine. I cursed the remaining half inch that would have had his hips pressing into mine. Dear God, closer, please.
His face was so near I saw the flecks of gold that highlighted the chocolatey brown of his eyes. My heart rate sped up as our bodies touched and my thoughts spun through my head at warp speed.
What was he going to tell me? Was he going to kiss me? How did I tell him I wanted to keep this at a friend level? How could I possibly just be friends with this man when I wanted to mark him as mine, like a dog in heat?
He cupped the side of my face with his hand, all the while staring into my eyes. "I love what I see when I look into your eyes. I see an intelligent, lonely, beautiful girl who pulls at me to get closer. You move like no one I've ever seen before and it turns me on to just watch you walk. Seeing you play volleyball is like watching an artist in her element. You're fierce and determined and focused and --electric-- out there on the court." Dean shook his head, a small smile still on his lips. "You push me away with your words, but your eyes beg me to get closer. So I'm listening to your eyes. And I'm close. And if you let me, I'll be even closer. You just have to say it."
