I glance at my phone for probably about the five thousandth time, though I don’t really expect anything new to come across the screen. Everything exciting has already happened. I got a much anticipated text from Jameson, roughing out the details of this afternoon.

Surf lessons today?

Totally! Where and when?

Then there is a lapse, with just those three dots, indicating that he’s texting. I friggin’ hate those dots. Then, he finally texts me back.

Meet at Joe’s Surf? Let’s shoot for 2.

Definitely! I immediately text back.

That was at noon. Now it’s one fifteen, and I am squeezing into my teeniest tiniest bikini. I look in the mirror in my messy bedroom, scoping out the pale pink triangle top against my suntanned skin.

I turn and check out my ass, indecisive. I glance at the pile of other swimsuits I own, sucking my bottom lip in between my teeth. I might be wearing the smallest one, but it’s kind of impractical for anything other than sunbathing. One wave gone awry, and the top will be nothing but a memory.

I heave a sigh just as Evie knocks on the open doorway of my bedroom. She is dressed up like she’s going to work, in a little black dress and heels. Her coffee creamer skin is all but glowing, and her dark hair is medium length, done in natural waves. She looks like a million bucks, which is good since knowing Evie her dress and shoes probably cost as much as a car.

She gives me a once over. “Who are you planning to seduce? Is it Jameson?”

I wince. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah. I mean, if that bathing suit top were any smaller, it would cease to exist.” She looks faintly amused. “He is really ridiculously hot though.”

I collapse onto my bed. “I know. But Asher has declared me off limits to him, for whatever reason. I’m like… who cares though, really?”

Evie scrunches her nose. “Are you really into Jameson? I thought you just thought he was hot.”

“I do,” I reassure her. “I would just like the option to bang Jameson, if that’s what I want to do.”

“So wear a slightly more normal bikini to the beach with him then,” Evie says. Then she frowns, putting her hand in front of her mouth. “Man, I must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with my stomach.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, sitting up.

“Yeah. I’m just nauseated. Anyway, I have to get going. I have to take my car in to the shop.” She smiles at me. “Good luck with the seduction, I think?”

I blow out a breath and nod. “Thanks. See you later.”

She nods, her mind obviously elsewhere. I poke through the pile of bikinis, and end up with a white bikini with a hint more coverage. Then I pull on a pair of flattering denim shorts and a strappy black tank top.

After a minute of dithering, I decide on Converse as my footwear. I grab a gray striped beach tote with my wallet, phone, and sunglasses inside, and head out the door. Jameson is waiting for me outside the weathered looking shop, propped by the front door in his dark jeans and a black t-shirt.

When he sees me, he looks a little irritated. Uh oh… what did I do?

“I thought you were going to bail,” he says flatly, crossing his arms.

“It’s only… 2:10,” I say, checking my phone. “You said we were going to shoot for two.”

He frowns down at me, squinting into the bright sunlight. “I like people who are punctual.”

“Take a chill pill,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“You know, maybe this was a bad idea.” He pushes himself off the building, moving toward the parking lot. He seems pretty serious.

“Wait!” I say, rushing forward to catch his arm in my hands. His arm feels so muscular under my touch, I almost squeeze it to make sure I’m not crazy. The contact seems to stop him in his tracks. He looks me right in the eyes, his gaze pinning me in place. “I… I’m sorry, okay?”

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.

“All right. Let’s look around at the other stuff they have in here.” He sets the board down. “Here, check out these wetsuits.”

Jameson indicates a rack of wetsuits of practically every shape and size. I wander over, feeling the rubbery texture of a suit between two fingers.

“You’ll probably want a wetsuit. It’s a personal choice, but the ocean is pretty damn cold.” He holds up one that is about my size. “Might wanna try this on.”

I grab it. “It’s a wetsuit. How bad can the fit really even be?”

He shrugs. “Pretty bad.”

I roll my eyes. “Alright. I’ll try it on in a minute. What else?”

“Well, then you probably want some surf wax… and some serious sun protection…”

I follow Jameson around the store, trying not to look at the size of his hands and feet, or to check out his ass. I feel like I’m a guy; like I just constantly think about sex when I’m around him.

But only him. No other guy has ever turned my head the way that he does. I sigh to myself as he leads me around the shop.

Will he ever notice me? Will I just be a virgin forever?

I’m not paying much attention as the store tour goes on, and I walk right into him. My face careens toward his, and he reaches out to help me catch my balance. We are really close for a second, our faces only inches apart.

“Oh, sorry!” I say, blushing a bit. My hair scatters all around my face, ever a nuisance.

He steadies me, looking at me for a second. He lifts his hand, brushing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. “You smell nice. Like… lemons, I think.”

He likes how I smell. My breath catches, and I look down at his mouth. Is he going to kiss me?

But no. He realizes all too soon that he’s too close for his comfort, and makes an effort to stand back.

“Right,” he says. “Anyway, I was thinking that you could borrow one of my boards for next week…”

“Next week?” I echo.

He gives me a look. “Yeah, I was saying that we should go out to the beach next week, to test out your skills. I’ll bring the sun block and the wax and the boards, you just need to bring a wetsuit.”

He looks pointedly at the suit in my arms.

“Right! Yeah. I guess I should try this wetsuit on then.”

Jameson looks at his watch. “It’s only 2:40… if I hurry, I can catch a few waves before I have to work the night shift at Cure. You don’t mind, right?”

I deflate a little bit. I guess it really didn’t matter what color bikini I wore today, because he’s leaving without seeing it.

“Uh, sure,” I say.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, no doubt.”

For a second, there’s an awkward moment where he stares at me, maybe trying to decide if he should hug me or not. Then he seems to give himself a little shake.

“Later.” He turns and strides out of the shop, leaving me there alone.

I make a frustrated sound and turn toward the back, to ask the lady working where I can try the suit on.