Page 4 of Wilder Love
Chill out, Remy.
“How is it you’ve never seen the ocean?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never lived near a coast.”
“Where are you from?”
“Everywhere and nowhere. I’ve moved around a lot.” I cleared my throat, wanting to steer the conversation away from my crazy life. “Why did you say it was purely selfish? Before?”
He smiled but didn’t answer the question. We came into a clearing at the top of a bluff and there it was, stretched out below us—the Pacific Ocean. The sea hugged the sky and it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. The colors were muted and hazy, like a vintage photo. I watched in fascination as the waves built and grew and then crashed, spraying the air with whitewater, the tide rushing up to the golden sand and retreating again. The ocean was infinite, stretching out beyond the horizon, seagulls circling above it. I thought the water would be blue, but in this light, it was steely gray, the waves churning up a mossy green. Seaweed, I guess.
I took a deep breath of sea air. The thunder of the waves silenced the voices in my head, drowned out the ugly, and made me feel at peace in a way I never had before. I didn’t know if it was because I was standing next to the golden boy with honey-brown hair and sculpted muscles, or if it was the ocean itself that made me dream of possibilities rather than only seeing obstacles. It was the closest I’d ever come to a religious experience.
I felt so small but not in an insignificant way.
Home, I thought. I’ve found my home. Which was a weird thought for a vagabond like me.
“Because of that,” he said quietly, not wanting to break the trance I was under.
“Because of what?” I asked, still staring at the ocean, barely conscious of the smile tugging at my lips.
“The look on your face. I wanted to be the first person you saw the ocean with.”
Oh. I dragged my gaze away from the scenery, to him. Up close, I could see that his eyes were hazel, swirls of green and brown flecked with shards of amber. There was a hint of stubble on his chiseled jaw like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his nose was peeling. For some reason, I found that peeling nose adorable. More human, less godlike. My gaze lowered to his mouth, his lips slightly parted and a little bit chapped. His tongue swept over the full bottom one before he gripped it between his straight white teeth.
What would it feel like to have those lips pressed against mine? What would he taste like? Warm sunshine and the sea?
“Dude. What up?” A male voice from behind us broke the spell we were under and I turned to look at two guys with surfboards under their arms.
“How was J-Bay?” a guy with curly blond hair asked.
Shane grinned, his attention diverted from me to them. “Fucking awesome.”
“No doubt. Saw you snagged a third in the event. Nice one, dude. And what’s this I hear about you wrestling a Great White?”
“The tales keep getting taller,” the guy with a blond buzzed-cut said.
“You’re a fucking legend.”
“Don’t feed his over-inflated ego. They were seals.”
“Seals with fins,” Shane scoffed.
The guys shared a laugh and Shane put his hand on the small of my back, bringing me into their circle.
“Remy. This is Travis. He can’t be trusted.” He jerked his thumb at the guy with a buzzed-cut and then to the other one. “And his brother Ryan. Don’t trust him either.”
“Such an ass,” Travis said.
Shane slung an arm around my shoulders like he was marking his territory. “Stick with me.”
“Better the serial killer you know?”
Shane winked. “Exactly.”
“How did you two meet?” Travis asked. “Did you go out last night?”
“You’re such a jealous lover. And no, I found Remy on the side of the road hitchhiking. The rest is history.”
