Page 14 of Wilder Love
“Nope.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
With that, he went back inside the shop. I exhaled loudly and followed him inside. “Where is she?”
“Surfing.”
“She doesn’t know how to surf.”
“She and her brother rented boards. Said they’d give it a try. She watched some videos on YouTube.”
He couldn’t be serious. “Videos,” I scoffed, following him inside the shop. “She can’t learn how to surf by watching videos. And you just let her go out there with no lessons? Nothing? Is she alone out there?”
“There are lifeguards on the beach.”
I speared my hand through my hair. “I offered to teach her.”
“She mentioned that.”
“And did she say why she stood me up this morning?”
This was an all-time low. I was pumping my dad for information about a sixteen-year-old girl who had become an obsession. When it came to girls, I never had to chase them. On tour, bikini-clad girls trailed after the surfers. They were mine for the choosing. Yet here I was, hung up on a high school girl. This couldn’t be good.
My dad studied my face. I looked so much like the younger version of him it was ridiculous. “Nope, she didn’t say,” he said, his mouth twitching with amusement.
I had no idea what he found so funny and I didn’t hang around long enough to find out. Five minutes later, I was down at the beach, my board under my arm. When I was a grom, I used to surf at this break, but not anymore. It got too crowded and rarely got any hollows.
Today, there were some decent, gentle-breaking waves, perfect for a beginner. I spotted her out there, surrounded by groms. She was alone, isolated from the pack. I watched her from the shore for a while without her knowing it. She was straddling her board, all that caramel skin on display.
As if sensing she was being watched, she turned her head and her eyes met mine. There was no way to pretend I had just happened to be here, so I paddled out to where she was. I could see her pebbled nipples through the thin fabric of her bikini top and my dick stirred to life in my surf shorts.
Down. Stay down.
“Checking up on me?”
“How’s it going? Have you caught any waves?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It hasn’t been pretty. I ate a ton of sand and drank half the sea.”
I laughed. “Getting ragdolled is all part of surfing. It’s half the fun. Are you having fun?”
She grinned. “I love it. Your dad’s a good teacher.”
That lying sack of shit. I chuckled and scrubbed my hand over my face. “He taught you, huh?”
“The basics.” She laughed. “I felt like an idiot.”
“Did he make you paddle and do pop-ups on the sand?”
“Yup. I didn’t ask him to teach me,” she hastened to add. “Dylan—my brother—and I rented boards after I finished my shift. Your dad said his conscience wouldn’t rest until he made sure we’d be okay out here.” She side-eyed me. “I guess you both have a conscience.”
“Guess so. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“Better than not having one at all. Some people don’t.”
“I know,” I said quietly.
“Yeah, I guess you would.” She chewed on her bottom lip and stared off into the distance, giving me her profile. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help last night but next time just stay out of it.”
