Page 55 of Bad Behavior

He grabs his mint green surfboard, casually carrying it under his arm. His wetsuit he throws over his shoulder. I heft my board and my wetsuit, and we set off down the beach. After a minute or so, the silence feels pretty suffocating, so I try to make conversation.

“I finished my last exam today,” I say, hurrying to keep pace with him. Not only is he over a foot taller than me, but I guess he has had a lot more practice walking in the sand.

I’ve lived by the beach my whole life, but I still have trouble plodding along. He notices that I’m struggling and slows down, for which I am thankful.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah. That means I’m officially on summer break. I can help you study more often. I mean, you know, if you want that.”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, maybe.”

Frustrated by his terseness, I plunge onward. “I was thinking that I could maybe make those flash cards that I mentioned the other day.”

He grunts, distractedly looking out at the ocean. The crowds start to thin out here, so he stops and sinks the tail of his board in the sand.

“We should be good here.” He wrinkles his nose, but his eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses. “I’m going to go ahead and put my wetsuit on.”

“Cool.” I put my board down and quickly get out of my shorts and tee, climbing into the wetsuit. I zip it up, and then look at Jameson for further instructions. “Now what?”

He folds his arms, sizing me up.

“Do you remember the steps from last time? Or should we go over them again real quick?”

I bite my lip. “Mmm… maybe practice them one more time?”

He nods. “All right. Lay your board down flat.”

I lay my board down, and move to the end. “All right.”

“Get on your knees,” he orders.

There is a moment of weirdness between us, and I blush. I kneel down at the end of my board.

“Grab the sides, and move onto your stomach.”

I do it awkwardly. “Then do sort of a cobra pose, right?”

I push my head up, angling my elbows back. When I look to him for affirmation, I realize that he’s staring at my ass, even though it’s covered in neoprene.

I cock a brow. “Are you teaching me to surf, or daydreaming about touching my ass?”

He gives himself a shake, narrowing his dark gaze at me. “Quit being mouthy. Now turn your leg…”

He tries to walk me through standing up, but I can’t quite get it this time without having him as an example next to me. He frowns and comes over to me, touching my leg.

“You have to move this leg first.” He positions my foot. “And then slide this foot forward…”

I shiver a little at his touch. He slowly guides me to a standing position. When I’m finally upright, he’s super close to my face, close enough that I could almost turn my head and kiss him. He holds me for a few seconds too long, his hands on my waist.

I slowly turn my head to face him, and he looks down at my lips. I see him swallow. I gently kiss him, but he pulls away.

“Emma—” he begins, shaking his head.

“What, now that you deflowered me, you’re not interested?” I accuse, but I keep my tone light.

His look turns black. “Of course not. You know that’s not it.”

“No?” I ask, arching a brow. Of course I know that isn’t his hangup, but it’s fun to torment him a little.

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