Sloane is beyond independent. She doesn’t let me do anything for her as we make our way out of her condo building. I don’t get to open a door or press an elevator button or rest my hand on the small of her back to guide her. She avoids me at every turn.
Her surfboard is waiting for her in the lobby when we get down. How they managed to get it so quickly, I have no idea since she just texted them that she needed it when we got into the elevator. But, somehow, they managed or knew that she would need it. Because here it sits.
I run forward to take it off their hands before Sloane is able to.
“Relax, Asher. I appreciate the help, but I can carry my own surfboard.”
I hold it up high over my head, so she can’t reach it. “I don’t care if you can. You shouldn’t have to.”
She frowns and crosses her arms. “I don’t need a man to take care of me. If you think that’s why I’m marrying Wes, you’re wrong.”
“I realize you don’t need a man or anyone else to do anything for you. But that doesn’t mean you should stop every man from doing something nice for you.”
She rolls her eyes and then begins walking toward the parking lot. I can’t tear my eyes away from her ass as she walks. I’m too focused on Sloane to notice another woman in the room, one that I should have been paying attention to.
I feel the slap before I notice the girl. I grab my stinging cheek as I look at the woman who just slapped me.
“You’re an asshole! I can’t believe you had the nerve to come back here. Leave me the fuck alone!” she screams at me before turning and walking out of the condo.
I glance up at Sloane, who has her head cocked to one side, her arms folded across her chest, and the cutest grin ever on her face.
“Who was that?”
“Nicole,” I say, realizing why I had a familiar feeling while I was in Sloane’s condo. I’ve been here before—with Nicole.
“And why did she slap you?”
“Because I’m an asshole.”
Sloane laughs.
“Did you bring your surfboard? If so, we can just surf right out here. It’s a private beach.”
“No, I didn’t bring it.” I think that is the first time I have ever spoken such a sentence. I always bring my surfboard. This is exactly why I always bring my surfboard and swim trunks with me.
“My car is just over this way. I can drive you to wherever you want to grab yours.”
I smile when she mentions her car. Of course she wants to drive. She wants to do everything herself. And, since I’m trying to appease her and make her forget about how sad she really is, I’m not going to argue, no matter how much I want to show her how well I could take care of her if she let me.
I follow her to her pristine white Jeep that doesn’t look like it has ever been driven.
“Is there something wrong?” Sloane asks when I stop and stare at it.
This woman is the epitome of contradiction. She works for a nonprofit, giving money to those who need it most, but also has more money and spends it like she enjoys showing off the money she has. She likes surfing and adventure but dresses like she never leaves the business room. I can’t understand her.
“Nothing,” I say.
I place her surfboard on top of her Jeep, quickly strapping it in, before climbing into the passenger side. Sloane is already on the driver’s side and begins backing out as soon as I get in.
We drive in silence. It’s clear that Sloane is lost in thoughts of her grandmother, bringing back the feelings of sadness and pain that I can’t stand to watch. It’s not hot in her Jeep. The AC works almost too well, which is strange for me since I can’t recall my truck’s AC ever working.
I roll my window down and stick my hand out into the warm breeze, like you should in Hawaii.
“What are you doing?” she asks sternly.
“Enjoying Hawaii.”
Her hair blows as the breeze gets stronger inside the car. She runs her hand through her hair, trying to keep the wind from further tangling it.
“But it’s too warm outside, and the AC is working fine. Why would I open the window?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Do you really never drive around with the windows open?”
“No. It’s much too warm here.”
“Turn the AC off, and open your window.”
“No.”
“Stop being stubborn, and just do it.”
She looks at me like I’m mad but finally concedes. Her hair becomes even more tangled, blowing in front of her face as she drives. She seems agitated and annoyed, which is the opposite of what I’m going for.
“Now, relax, and stick your hand out the window.”
She raises an eyebrow at me.
I laugh, my whole body shaking. I can’t help it.
“Are you sure you grew up here? You are acting like you grew up in outer space.”
She frowns, clearly not amused.
“Like this,” I say, sticking my hand out the window.
She does the same, and it only takes seconds for her to relax. To breathe and become one with the wind, letting go of some of the sadness was overtaking her. But there is too much sadness and pain in her for a simple car ride with the wind blowing around us to fix. Not that anything is going to fix the pain or sadness. I know that as well as anyone. I’ve experienced it myself and caused it in others. I’ve watched them all handle the pain in different ways. Some handle it better than others, but then some weren’t really in love.
Sloane loved her grandmother. So, the pain will never go away. But she does need to learn to live with it, and the sooner she does, the better. If only for my selfish reasons. Because, the sooner she heals, the sooner I can rip her heart out.
“Pull over,” I say.
“Why?” Sloane asks but doesn’t pull over.
“For once, can you just do what I tell you without asking why?”
She frowns. “No. We haven’t known each other long enough for me to do that.”
I laugh. “Do you do what Wes tells you without asking why?”
She scrunches her nose. “No.”
“Exactly. It doesn’t matter who is asking. You always have to be in control. For once in your life, let someone else have control. Don’t think. Just do.”
I reach over and touch her hand that has a firm hold on the steering wheel. She doesn’t flinch even though that was what I expected. She doesn’t glance down either. She acts like I’m not even touching her.
She’s a much better actor than I am. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest at the touch of her soft skin. I have to be good today. I’m used to practicing self-control. But Sloane makes that incredibly hard to do.
“Pull over,” I say calmly.
Sloane takes a deep breath. I watch her chest rise and fall and wish she weren’t wearing the T-shirt covering the bikini underneath. Better yet, I wish she were wearing nothing.
Sloane pulls the car over onto the side of the road.
“Now, put the car in park.”
She does without hesitation.
“Turn the car off.”
She slowly reaches up, and I reluctantly move my hand away from hers as she turns the car off.
“Take a deep breath, and then get out of the car.”
I watch her chest rise and fall again, and then she gets out of the car. I do the same and pull her surfboard off the top of the car. I begin carrying it to the beach.
“What are we doing? You don’t have your surfboard or swim trunks, and this is one of the worst places for surf on the island. There isn’t even anyone here.”
I shake my head from side to side. “No questions. You have to trust me. This is what you need.”
She frowns, but I keep walking toward the edge of the water with her surfboard in tow, not giving her another choice.
She walks behind me.
When I get to the water, I stop and wait for her to catch up. I hand her back her surfboard.
“Now, surf, and don’t think. About me or Wes or your grandmother. Or anything else. Just surf. Go through the motions.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I put a finger up to her lips to stop her. Her lips are as soft as I imagined. She bites her lip, and I pull my hand away.
“Don’t say anything. Now, go.” I point toward the ocean.
She grins. “I was only going to say, can I take my T-shirt and shorts off first?”
I want to say no because it doesn’t matter. She’s thinking too much, and she needs to just get in the water. But I’m desperate to see her in nothing but her bikini. I can just imagine her walking back toward me after surfing, beads of water dripping down her breasts. I need to see her body like that. Although a white T-shirt drenched in water might be equally as awesome.
“It was implied,” I say.
“Sure it was.”
She shimmies out of her shorts first, but her T-shirt is long enough that it covers her ass, revealing nothing new to me. But then she removes her shirt, revealing the toned body that she was hiding beneath her T-shirt.
Damn. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this.
She’s toned and fit beneath her tiny black bikini. I can see the muscles rippling in her stomach, arms, and legs. But she also has the perfect amount of curves outlining her muscles. Her breasts have me aching to touch them. Her hips are curvy, making me want to grab her and have her right here in the sand. Even though I’ve done that before and as much as I like the beach and ocean, fucking a woman on it is much worse than the fantasy.
She doesn’t smile as she begins walking into the ocean. Instead, she seems determined. She walks in a ways before she gets on the board and starts paddling out. The waves are pretty tame here, and there isn’t anyone out here that she has to pay attention to. No, this is the perfect spot for her to clear her head and get used to the pain she is feeling.
I just wish I had my own board, so I could join her.
It doesn’t take her long to paddle out until I can barely make out the curves in her body from where I stand.
She takes her time in choosing a wave. And then she is up on her board, surfing with obvious experience. She doesn’t do anything fancy. But the way she moves over the ocean is beautiful. She glides easily, like she has been doing it her whole life. I could watch her for hours.
The wave suddenly changes and causes Sloane to lose her balance and prematurely fall off the board. The wave crashes down on top of her with a lot of force. I know it’s not enough to keep her down for long. I know the wave wasn’t that bad. But, still, I can’t help but throw off my shirt, jump into the water, and swim out to her to ensure that she makes it out of the water. To air. To safety.
I swim as fast and as hard as I can to reach her. I try to calm my beating heart and nerves that are shooting through my body. I don’t understand the feeling. I don’t understand why I care so much if she is alive or dead. In pain or not. She is nothing to me.
Still, I swim hard, not thinking about why my heart is beating hard in my chest. Or why I care if something happens to her. I dive under the water, swimming faster until I see her body right in front of me. I grab hold of her and look up to see the wave has stopped pounding down on top of us. And then I kick hard over and over until we reach the top.
We each take a breath of air at the same time when our heads hit the surface. Sloane flips her head back to get her hair out of her face, and she scowls at me. Her eyes look unforgiving, a deep V has formed between her eyes, and her mouth turns down into more than a frown.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving you. You went down and didn’t come back up for air for quite a while. I wanted to make sure you didn’t die.”
She shakes her head as she wades in the water and rests her arms on her surfboard. “I don’t need saving or rescuing. I have surfed before even if I am a bit rusty.”
“I know.”
“Then, why are you here?”
“Because I can’t help but be near you.”
“I thought you weren’t going to hit on me today.”
“I’m not. I’m just telling you the truth since you are so insistent on asking a million questions, needing to know everything.”
She doesn’t say anything else, but I can tell she is deep in thought again, no longer here with me.
“Swim back out, and go again,” I say.
She turns to do just that. At least, now, she is listening to me instead of questioning. She pauses though after swimming a foot or so and faces me.
“What are you going to do?”
“Join you.”
“How? You don’t have your surfboard.”
I grin. “Sure I do.”
I start swimming out while she paddles on her surfboard. When she stops, I swim up behind her, guiding her toward the front of the surfboard while I climb on behind her. Neither of us says anything, and I have honestly never surfed with someone else on the same board before. But it can’t be that hard. She’s more than capable on a surfboard, and I’ll figure out the rest, no problem.
We wait through the first wave, agreeing it’s not the right one without having to say anything to each other.
When the next wave comes, I say, “Start paddling.”
We both do.
“Stand up,” I say after a few seconds of paddling.
Sloane does, and I do a second later. Then, we are both up on the board at the same time. I take a step forward and place my hands on her hips as I begin maneuvering the board through the wave. She moves with me as I move us as one. It feels different, maneuvering while having to think about someone else on the board. I can’t just do what I want. I have to ensure that she wants to go the same way as me. I have to think about her, too.
I want to show her what a surfboard can really do though, so I grip her hips harder and begin moving us higher onto the wave. She doesn’t question me. She goes with me. We surf until the wave takes us close to shore. We step off at the same time, both speechless.
Our eyes lock after such an intimate moment together. I don’t know what I see in her eyes. I’m used to being able to read people, but I can’t read her. She doesn’t give anything away with her eyes. I just know what I hope I’m seeing there. I hope it’s the same thing that I’m feeling.
I reach my hand up to her cheek. “I want to kiss you,” I say.
I wait for her to slap me. A slap always follows when I say something so bold. I brace for it. But it never comes. Instead, she leans in closer to me, like she is considering it. Like she is desperate for it. I feel her warm breath against my lips. I have to ball my hands into fists to keep from closing in the last few inches and kissing her.
I won’t kiss her though. If she cheats on Wes, it has to be her choice. That’s the only way to steal her heart, to ensure she’s mine, and then I’ll toss her aside when I’m through with her. She has to be the one who does the betrayal.
When she realizes that no temptation is going to get me to be the one to make the first move, she steps back and turns to look out over the ocean at the sun that is just now beginning to set over the ocean.
“We should go sit on the beach and watch the sunset, so we can try to dry off before getting back into my car. We forgot to bring towels,” Sloane says so matter-of-factly. Like the almost kiss didn’t happen. Like I haven’t affected her at all.
My eyes widen as I stare at her walking back toward the shore. I begin to follow her. I walk until I’m standing right next to her on the beach. She’s staring at the sunset while I’m gaping at her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, still staring straight ahead at the sunset, while she wrings out her wet hair.
“Gaping at how you never cease to surprise me.”
“Why is that?”
“You never behave in the way that I think you will.”
She nods. “Would it surprise you to hear that you aren’t the first person to make that observation?”
I laugh. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.”
She looks at me. “I get it from my grandmother. My unpredictability.”
I walk over and find my T-shirt that I threw on the beach before I jumped into the water. I pick it up and carry it over to where Sloane is standing on the beach, trying to dry off. I lay it on the ground.
“Here, sit on the T-shirt, so you don’t get sand all over you.”
She sits on my T-shirt, and I sit on the sand next to her.
Sloane laughs at me.
I rub my neck as I listen to her beautiful laugh that I didn’t think I would get to hear today. “You’re going to have to tell me what is so funny.”
She keeps laughing though until her whole body is rocking back and forth from the force of her laughter. “I’m sorry,” she says in between laughs. “It’s really not funny. I don’t understand why I’m laughing at all. It’s just that you thought I should sit on your T-shirt to avoid getting sand on me, but then you sat down on the sand. And, unless you are walking home, you are going to get sand in my car.”
I stare at her, taking in her laugh again that continues to force itself out of her. But she has a point. So, I get up and rinse myself off in the water. And then I march back to her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, still laughing.
I don’t respond to her basically never-ending question. I guess I should dictate everything that I am doing, as I’m doing it to satisfy her. She really is a control freak.
I plop down behind her so that I can sit on the tiny bit of remaining T-shirt that she is not sitting on. She squeals and laughs, like she probably would if Wes had sat down behind her.
“You’re getting me all wet,” she squeals as the water drips off my chest and onto her back.
“Damn it! I promised I wouldn’t hit on you; otherwise, I would have a great line about getting you wet.”
This causes her to laugh hysterically all over again. She throws her head back, hitting me square in the jaw.
“Oh my God! I’m sorry,” she says, still laughing.
I laugh now. “I don’t think you are the least bit sorry. You probably think I deserved it.”
“You’re right. I’m not sorry at all. You deserved that and more.”
Sloane continues to laugh until her laugh turns into hiccups. I rub her back under the guise of trying to calm her down and make the hiccups go away, but I also can’t stand to be this close to her and not touch any part of her body, except for our legs that are barely touching. Her skin is soft and warm.
“The sunset is beautiful,” she says as she leans back a little but not enough so that she is leaning against my chest, like I want.
“You’re beautiful,” I say automatically.
“That sounds like you are hitting on me.”
“Nope. Just stating a fact.”
She takes a deep breath. I can tell from watching her rib cage rising and falling.
“Thank you for this,” she says.
I don’t say anything because the hesitation in her voice tells me she needs to say more.
“I needed this. I don’t know how you knew this was what I’d need, but I did. I wouldn’t have survived being alone tonight.”
I think she’s crying, but I can’t be sure. But, from the sniffling sound in her voice, I can guess.
I don’t comfort her though. She doesn’t need that. She needs to find her way on her own.
“I don’t know why I feel her loss so much. She hasn’t been in my life in the last five years. Not really. She had Alzheimer’s, and she lived in a nursing home. I tried to visit as often as I could, but she didn’t know who I was. She’s been gone for the last five years. I thought I’d come to terms with the fact that the woman who had raised me was gone.”
She turns and faces me, and I see the full tears coming down her face.
“She’s really gone now though. Body and mind. She was the only person who ever really made me feel loved.” Her voice is shaky.
I know that there are no words to make it better for her. I can’t help her through this. She has to deal with this pain, this sadness, this new reality. All I can do is wrap my arms around her and let her know that she isn’t alone.
So, that is exactly what I do.
She resists me at first, pushing my arms away, but I hold on tighter. Not because I’m hitting on her or because I need to feel her close to me. But because I know she needs the connection to another human being right now.
She finally relaxes against my chest, as I continue to hold her in my arms. She continues to cry as we both look out over the ocean as the sun sets. We don’t say anything else. Sloane can’t get any other words out between her tears anyway. And I can’t say anything that will make her stop crying. So, we just sit until the warmth of the sun is long gone, and there is nothing but the noise of the highway behind us and the ocean waves in front of us.
“Do you want me to take you home now?” I whisper in her ear.
She doesn’t answer. I move my head forward, so it is closer to her face that is lying against my chest, and I listen to her calm breathing. She’s asleep.
I’ll have to find a way to get her back to her condo at some point. But, for now, I just want to sit here, in one of my favorite places, holding a beautiful woman who I don’t think, no matter how hard I try, I will fully understand.
I think about the last words she said to me.
“She was the only person who ever really made me feel loved.”
I don’t know if her words were true or if she was just upset and said it because she was missing Wes and not feeling loved. But I have to find out. Because I can’t really steal her from Wes if he’s never really loved her.