Page 34 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
“Next time, we should check out the Imperial Beach Pier. It’s a little more crowded, but fun. We can grab lunch after, too. Lots of great fish joints.”
“I’d love that,” I answered honestly before sighing. “I don’t want to leave, but we should head back.”
“Aw, you tired? California waves too much for you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have a date with Ethan tonight,” I said, turning to Jamie then. I don’t know why I expected some sort of reaction from him, because I found nothing.
“Oh. Okay. Well let’s catch one last wave then.” He smiled, falling forward on his board before paddling out.
And that was it.
It felt a little surreal as we made the hike back up the boardwalk to where we’d parked. I had finally surfed in California, and the day had rushed by so quickly I almost forgot to take it in. So, after we loaded up the boards and Jamie tossed on a t-shirt, I walked back over to the top of the boardwalk and gazed out over the waves, watching the surfers ride them in.
I was shivering still, even with my wetsuit abandoned in the Jeep and a light sweater thrown over my bathing suit. My curls were big and frizzy from the salt water as they blew in the sea breeze around me, blocking my vision from time to time and reminding me of home.
I felt Jamie slide up beside me and we both rested our elbows on the rail, eyes on the water.
“I can’t believe we’re in California.”
Jamie smiled. “Together.”
I squinted against the sun as I turned toward him, my sunglasses still in the car. “Thank you for today, Jamie. Yesterday, too.”
“We’re just getting started,” he answered, and I felt those words in my core. We’re just getting started.
We stood there a moment, both of us silent, and then he leaned against the railing with an easy smile again.
“By the way, I have to ask. How come you left the push up bra at home? I was kind of looking forward to seeing you try to surf in it.”
I nudged him, eyes narrowed. “It was a pool party, okay? I needed something a little more showy than my surf tops that make me look like a boy.” I glanced down at the top I was wearing beneath the mesh sweater, a black and lime green halter that matched my board and made me look as flat as one.
“Oh, so you were putting on a show that night, huh?”
“Well, you see, someone had been ignoring me,” I teased back. “So I needed to find a way to get some attention.” I scrunched my nose, tongue between my teeth. I loved bantering with Jamie, but hated the way my stomach dropped right along with his smile as a more serious tone set in around us.
There it was — that signature stare from Jamie. The way it combined with the sunlight burned my skin, and suddenly I wasn’t shivering anymore.
“You don’t look like a boy, for the record,” Jamie said, his voice low again.
I laughed, not believing him, but then he stepped closer and his hand weaved into my salty hair. I stopped laughing. I stopped breathing.
“And I wasn’t ignoring you. I was avoiding you. I was trying to stay away.” He swallowed, his eyes holding mine before flicking to my mouth and back as his other hand slid up to mirror the first, framing my face. “I was trying to stop myself from doing this.”
He pulled me into him and before I could register it all, his lips were on mine.
And my world tilted, taking me with it.
Jamie had held his breath on that kiss, and for a moment I held mine, too. But when I lifted up on my tip toes, pressing my lips harder against his and fisting my hands in his shirt to pull him even closer, we both exhaled together. Our breaths rushed out around us and Jamie sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it go with a groan as he kissed me again, this time sliding his tongue in to find mine.
I was spinning, tipsy, teetering on the edge of being wasted on Whiskey. I’d dreamed of kissing Jamie so many times, but nothing could compare to how it really felt — his hands on me, so strong, his mouth skilled and passionate. My legs were weak and he felt it, taking the weight of me in his arms, kissing me like he’d waited his entire life to have the chance.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling back and pressing his forehead against mine. We were both panting, trying to stabilize.
“Jamie, I—”
“Have a boyfriend. I know.” He let me go then, pulling back and spinning to face away from me. He ran his hands through his hair roughly and paused, hands still on his head. “Goddamnit. I’m sorry.”
