Page 101 of Summer, in Between
‘There’s plenty.’He holds his hands out and wrenches me out of the water and across his board.‘Now just swing your leg over.’
‘This isn’t very dignified or lady-like.’I cross my hands across my lap.‘Nonna would spontaneously stroke if she saw this.No wonder the girls wear board shorts.’
‘I won’t look,’ Paul says.‘I’m a gentleman, remember?’
‘So you keep telling me.You know you’re looking right now, don’t you?’
‘I’m only human,’ he says.‘But you’re right.I’ve barely recovered from the beach incident.If it bothers you, scoot a bit closer.’
‘I was born to scoot closer to you,’ I say, ‘watch me scoot.Don’t I scoot well?’
‘You scoot like a boss.’His arms enclose me, my head tucked under his chin.My bathers have shifted and the wax from his board is sticking into my, well, where surf wax doesn’t need to stick.
‘Isn’t this going to make it hard for you to surf?’His wetsuit is cool and soft against my body.His hands move across my back.
‘I’ve never been so happy to miss the lineup.You, the sun, the water, your skin.If I die now, I’ll die a happy man.’
‘Me too,’ I say.‘Happy girl, not man.But your wetsuit sucks.Why am I almost naked and you’re like a nun here?How is that fair?’
‘Not fair at all,’ he says, ‘but man, it’s the only thing keeping me together right now.Hold on, babe.’He tips himself off the surfboard.I grip the decks as it wobbles precariously.He pops up beside me, bobbing in the water.
‘Why’d you do that?’
‘Just need to cool off a bit,’ he says.‘You okay?’
‘Actually, my hips feel like they’re going to pop from their sockets.’He holds the board steady while I swing my legs around to lie face down.I cross my arms and rest my chin on my wrists.Paul moves to the front of the board to face me.Salt flakes crust his eyelashes and eyebrows.
‘That better?’
‘This is awesome,’ I say, ‘I reckon I could sleep here.Maybe surfing isn’t so bad after all.’
‘Technically, this isn’t actually surfing,’ he says, ‘but I’m glad you like hanging out with me in my natural habitat.’
‘I love it.’I lift myself up on my elbows.‘And I love you, Paul Lightwood.
‘I love you, Caterina Kelty.’
