Page 28 of Forbid It

She's firmly planted on the sand, her board next to her, hand on her hip and tendrils of red hair blowing in the wind.

"Where are you going?"

I tilt my head back with a groan, just about done with this nonsense. "Cassie, I've humored you long enough. I got out of the car, I put on the bloody wetsuit that may or may not belong to another man, and now you're saying I lugged this bloody thing all the way down here for no reason?" I just about have the restraint to keep the board tucked under my arm.

She blinks at me, cocking her hip to the side and biting back a grin. "When you learned how to play soccer⁠—”

“Football,” I correct, automatically.

She ignores me. “Did you immediately start playing in stadiums?"

"What?"

"Or did you practice at home. In the back yard?" Cassie drops her board to the sand and gestures for me to do the same.

I look out at the horizon, the low afternoon sun reflecting on the water, and sigh before plopping my board down next to hers.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I can't believe this," I mutter under my breath as I drop to my knees in the sand next to her. I was supposed to go home and workout in peace. But instead I'm pretending to surf on dry land next to a woman who was put on the earth to torture me.

Cassie makes me lie on my front, pretending to paddle before making me arch forward and hop up onto my feet.

It's not dissimilar to a pushup, so I practice the move with ease. The motion is easy, so I'm confident I'll be able to replicate it.

After she's made me do it four times, I hop up. "Let's go."

She narrows her eyes as she considers me. "You think you can do it?"

I scoff. "I'm an athlete Cassie, of course I can do it.”

I don't tell her that Florent would bench me for a month if he caught me doing something so dangerous whilst in contract. Anything could happen. I could break a limb, re-tear my ACL, drown, but I won't back down in front of those fiery green eyes. If this girl wants me to surf, I'm going to surf.

"Okay," she sings, her melodic voice settling across me like a weighted blanket. "Let’s go."

I copy her as she effortlessly crashes into the water, paddling through the waves.

This is no different from swimming, just on top of a piece of foam. The only sound is the rhythmic noise of the waves hitting the shore, and the splashing of my arms through the water. I follow behind Cassie, the arches of her bare feet visible over the tail of her board.

Eventually, she pivots to sit, legs spread on either side of the board as she straddles it. The water is cool enough to keep any arousal in check, but it's still an effort to drag my eyes away from her. The sun is just now starting to set on the horizon, bathing her in a golden glow. The ends of her braid are already tinged with sea water as it falls over her shoulders.

I push myself up to mimic her position, and the board teeters beneath me. Huh. That's definitely not like it was on the sand.

"This is a good one," Cassie says as she flattens against the board, something in her voice making me do a double take. I've not heard that gleeful inflection from her before. "It's coming!"

I can't stop the smile that pulls at my lips as I watch. Her body is flat to the board, her head tilted behind her to watch the wave that’s building behind us. She has the biggest smile I've ever seen her have. She looks different. She looks happy.

She takes off with a yell, and I watch as she seamlessly lifts to stand, riding the wave for a few glorious seconds, water spraying from her board, before she tumbles to the water with a laugh.

The board underneath my thighs tilts with the water as I clap my hands together.

"You're a natural, Sandra." I tell her as she resurfaces and paddles back to me, splashing water at me with a wide grin. "How long have you been surfing?"

Cassie climbs back to seated and looks out towards the horizon. "Since I was a teenager. When I got signed, I was just a kid, so my dad wanted me to do something that wasn't just music. He hired a private instructor and brought me out here every week for a summer until I was confident to go out on my own. Then he probably regretted it, because I'd come down here as soon as my parents started arguing, and he couldn't get me to come out again."

"Do they still fight a lot?"

She grimaces. "Come on, your turn."