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“She's in California, right? What's she going to school for?”
“Yep. She just graduated last month with her Bachelors in Fine Arts. She also started a summer grad class a few weeks ago to get ahead for her master's degree. She's a super talented painter, like gets commissioned for some pretty awesome gigs, so she doesn't even need the extra education, but she's one of those people who’s always loved school. Her brain is a sponge, and she can literally remember anything she learns once.”
“Damn. I'd love school too if it came that easy.”
“No kidding, right? She's an extrovert too, so she gets along with almost everyone.”
“Maybe she'll come visit you someday, and I can meet her,” he offers. “I bet she'd have fun in Florida too.”
“Oh I know she would. She's a boy-crazy twenty-two-year-old.”
I take my first bite, slowly chewing and getting used to the flavors. He watches me eagerly and I can tell he really wants me to like it, but damn, it's god-awful.
“You hate it, don't you?”
I nod, and he hands me a napkin, then I spit it out.
“I'm sorry, I really don't want to sound unappreciative.”
“Nah, don't be.” He grabs my plate and slides it next to him, stabbing it with his fork and taking a bite. “I'll eat it.”
Easton gobbles it down like he has an iron stomach, and honestly, I don't know how it's not burning him from the inside out. Maybe I have a low tolerance to a lot of spices, but that hot sauce alone is still lingering on my tongue.
“I can make you a regular one with just cheese?” he offers when I stand to go to the kitchen.
“No, it's okay. I'm not as hungry as I thought. I'll just grab a granola bar and eat it with my coffee.”
Since the kitchen is a mess, I clean it for Easton while he finishes eating. I rinse the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, then wipe down the counters. By the time Easton brings the plates over, it's nearly spick-and-span.
“So I was thinking, since we're here indefinitely, I want to take advantage and catch some waves. There won't be much else to do, and as long as we stick together, we should be safe to go out.”
“We? You seriously think I can surf?” I laugh. “I've been to the beach like...twice since I've been in Florida. And one of those times, it started raining five minutes after I got there, so I left.”
“We gotta do the buddy system! If I go, you go.”
I give him a side-eye, wondering if he’s being serious or messing with me. “I’m a little old to be doing the buddy system, but I can watch from the beach.”
“I promise you’d love it.”
He’s so confident and excited that I can’t bear to disappoint him. It would be nice to enjoy the water while we’re here, but the last thing I need to do is break something and be vulnerable while Justin’s looking for me.
“I have little to no athletic skills,” I tell him, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his plan.
Easton chuckles, moving around me in the kitchen and brushing his hand along my lower back. The innocent gesture sends a spark of desire between my legs. I swallow down the hint of embarrassment, hoping he didn’t notice.
“How long have you been surfing?” I ask, adding his plates to the dishwasher, then starting it.
He takes a bottle of water from the fridge, then heads for the living room. I follow and take a seat on the couch. Easton clicks on the TV and flips through the channels.
“Since I was a kid. Tristan actually taught me before he left for the military. Then I just fell in love with the way it amped me up for the day and knew I wanted a career around it. Besides teaching or going pro, opening a shop for surfboards and swimwear seemed like the next best option. Turns out, it was the one that changed my life. I can't imagine sitting in a cube for eight hours a day. Plus, I love being able to share my passion with other people. I nearly surfed professionally but didn't want to be constantly traveling and away from my parents.”
“Wow,” I say in amazement. I wasn't aware of his background, and honestly, it's impressive. It makes me wish I had an outlet and passion that I could've pursued while growing up.
Easton finally grows bored from scrolling and hands me the remote. I eventually land on an old movie I used to binge-watch as a teenager.
“Is that Lisa Kudrow? Wow, I've never heard of this one,” he exclaims a few minutes into it, and I give him a look of shock.
“Are you serious? Oh my God. The number of times I have seen this is too many to count.”
