“Oh really? Care to share?”
“And ruin the perfect image of a surf god that you have of me? Not a chance,” Kai jokes, and he’s kind of right. He is a surf god in my eyes, especially when he’s shirtless and wet and tanned.
“Come on. Sacrifice yourself and tell me,” I urge playfully. “I put myself out there, losing my bottoms and now walking back here with zero depth perception, clinging to your boardshorts because they’re a little too loose.”
Kai chuckles, resting the boards against the side of the surf shop. He turns to look at me, and his deep brown eyes take me in, and all I can do is smile at him.
He’s so strikingly gorgeous that it almost takes my breath away. There’s something so simple about him, so pure, and that’s what makes him so attractive: his carefree attitude and the strength of his features. He isn’t what you expect when you think of surfers—all blonde and tanned.
Everything about him is the opposite: the dark hair, the rich brown eyes, the lean muscle, the sun-kissed skin.
“Okay, fine,” he concedes, rolling his eyes. “So once, when I was out on the water with the guys, a hole ripped in the crotch of my boardshorts.”
He stops, and I cock my head to the side and narrow my eyes, lips pursed. Nothing about this feels as ridiculous as what happened to me.
“And every time I popped up on my board to catch a wave, the good old flesh chandelier would drop right out of the ballroom. First couple of waves, I’d be out there trying to decide if I should ride the wave or shove my junk back in.”
The laughter comes almost immediately after his description, tears spilling from my eyes, but instead of crying like I have been over bullshit, I’m dying of hilarity.
“In the end, I just said fuck it and let them fly free,” Kai says, ending one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard.
“I totally feel better now,” I say, nodding as I continue to laugh.
“Good.”
We pull into the long drive that leads down to Quinn’s eyesore of a house. Even though it is painted the most hideous shade of lime green and pink, it’s actually kind of growing on me. Somehow, I like it, and I’m glad Quinn decided she did too.
“So, you wanna grab a quick shower and figure your contacts out, and then we can get going?” I ask, pulling to a stop in front of her house.
“Where are we going?”
I smile, opening the door. “You’ll see,” I tell her, getting out of the car. I open the back door, grabbing some clothes, which I always have with me given how frequently I surf. “Actually, mind if I grab a quick shower too?” I ask.
Quinn slow blinks at me, her mouth dropping open into a tiny O shape as she stares at me from the front passenger seat. It suddenly registers what I’ve said and how she’s likely interpreted it, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I mean separately, obviously,” I tell her before shutting the back door. “But of course, if you wanna save water and shower together, I’m not gonna say no to that either.”
Quinn smirks at me through the window, shaking her head as she gets out of the car. She’s still wearing my board shorts, her rogue bikini bottoms long gone. I’m wearing nothing but a towel, having free-balled it surfing this morning before donating my shorts to her. The whole clothes swapping, practically naked thing is weirdly arousing, and I’m definitely sporting a semi right now under this towel.
“I’m sure you’re not,” she says as we make our way up to the front door. “How about you make yourself at home while I take the first shower?”
“Sure thing, Quinn,” I say with a smile as we head inside.
I drop my clothes on the kitchen table as Quinn heads to her bedroom. Opening a bunch of cupboards, I find a glass. Grabbing it, I fill it with water, gulping it down in one go before refilling it.
Opening the fridge, I smile at the box of cupcakes from Daze’s shop, lifting the lid to see which ones she got just as Quinn walks back into the kitchen.
She’s freshly showered, her hair wet and pulled into a messy knot on top of her head. She’s wearing this short dress too that has these thin straps and shows off her amazing body.
Fuck.
“Shower’s all yours,” she says, handing me a clean towel. “Just down the hall.”
I grab the box of cupcakes from the fridge, putting it on the table as I pick up my clothes. “Thanks, won’t be a sec.”
The bathroom is still warm, the remnants of Quinn’s shower filling the space. It also smells like her—this fruity combination that somehow takes my semi to mostly hard. When I reach in to turn on the water, though, pulling off my towel as images of Quinn naked in here fill my brain, I see her discarded bikini top hanging over the glass screen.
And it’s enough to take my dick from hard to raging boner.
