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"I'm coach today."
"The point of this is you saying goodbye to your hobby."
"Is it?"
Her smile is sly. It's there, in her eyes. Of course not. We both know you're full of shit. I want to hate it. But I kind of like it. "I can handle the board," she says.
"I thought you knew how to surf."
"I do."
"Then you should know that board is way too big for you. You're barely five feet tall. Still can't believe you spar with Ryan."
"He's only got ten inches on me."
I raise a brow. "Fuck, Chloe. Don't let Leighton find that out."
She shakes her head you're ridiculous. Her nose scrunches as she looks up at me. "Really? Ten inches?"
I nod.
"How do you know?"
"Massive cocks run in the family."
"Even if that were true—"
"If? You gonna pretend like you haven't tested the equipment?"
"I didn't bring a ruler."
"You can take my word for it."
She shakes her head. "Everyone knows guys exaggerate about their height and their size."
God, she really is a tiny package of fire. I've never had a thing for short girls, but there's something about Chloe. I want to wrap my arms around her. To consume her.
"Which means you're only nine inches," she says.
"Only nine?"
"You're right. You're Dean. You exaggerate twice as much as normal. Only eight. Maybe even under seven."
"Eight gets an only?"
She nods.
"That's the size of your arm."
"No…" She holds out her arm, spreads her fingers wide. "This is at least a foot."
"Want to compare?"
"No."
"You can see my Prince Albert."
Her pupils dilate. It's a quick second, then it's gone. "Not interested."
