Page 16 of Bad Behavior

A long moment stretches between us, with J’s expression eventually softening.

“Just be on time from now on,” he rumbles.

“Yes. Definitely.”

He shakes his head a little, blowing out a breath. Then he carefully steps out of my grasp, clearing his throat. “Let’s go inside.”

He pushes open the front door, which chimes a little as I walk in. Inside the shop is surprisingly modern, all smooth concrete, polished cedar, and a few chrome garment racks. Along the back wall there are a number of finished boards and three half-finished surf boards. There’s also a woman who is sanding one of the boards doggedly.

The song that is playing low in the background ends, and the woman stands up, pulling off a paper respiration mask. She’s really pretty, blonde and thin with cutoff shorts and a yellow crop top. She looks at Jameson like he is some dirt on her shoe, though.

“Jameson.” She crosses her arms. I’m willing to guess that she has dipped a toe into J’s pool, and she didn’t like the results.

“Maria,” he greets her, ducking his head. “It’s been a while.”

She gives him a nasty look, then turns to me. “If you’re thinking about dating him, do yourself a favor. Get a nice vibrator, and save yourself a ton of time.”

My cheeks turn red. “Oh, we’re not—”

“That’s not what—” he tries to explain.

I look at Jameson, and he looks at me.

“Whatever,” Maria says. “What do you want?”

“We just want to look around,” Jameson explains. “She’s never even been on a board before.”

Maria couldn’t roll her eyes any harder if she tried. Her words are huffy and sarcastic. “Great. If you don’t mind, then?”

She lifts the respirator mask back into place, turns her back on us, and goes back to sanding.

“Yikes,” I say in a low voice. “What did you do to her?”

He just rolls his eyes. “Come on. Come look at their boards.”

He goes to the stack of finished surf boards, leaning against each other. He touches the first board gingerly, lifting it almost reverently. It’s mint green and a few inches taller than Jameson.

“So there are a million kinds of surfboards,” he says, turning it over. “There are longboards and shortboards. The top, where you stand, is the deck. The bottom is usually concave, and has a fin.”

He flips the board, showing me the fin.

“Mmmkay,” I say, squinting.

“Most boards have leashes, a little cuff that attaches to your leg.” He flips the board again, showing me. “The nose of the board can be rounded or inclined, depending.”

“What is it made out of?” I ask.

“Polyurethane, usually. Here, there are a few different fin and nose setups in this stack. Here’s this… and this one…”

He shows me a few examples.

“They all pretty much look the same,” I say with a shrug.

“I’m just telling you so that you have the information. You, of anyone I know, should know the value of that.” He looks down his nose at me, which makes me suppress a smile.

“Sure,” I agree. I suck my lower lip in my teeth, trying not to look at him as if I want to jump his bones.

Which, at this moment, I really really do.

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