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When Easton speaks up, his voice is thick and gravelly. “You’re tense.”
“I could use a good massage,” I admit, but it comes out in a hoarse whisper. I love his strong hands on me and how my body reacts to him, but it also scares the shit out of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like this before, regardless of this being innocent.
When he pulls away, I immediately feel the loss. I turn, meet his eyes, and something is swirling behind his gaze.
“You need some help too?” I ask, wanting to return the favor.
“Yeah.” He hands over the bottle. Then I take my time touching him. His muscles flex, and I can’t help but admire how they cascade down his back. Freckles sprinkle across his shoulders, and I’m tempted to trace them with my fingers. I’m breathless, trying to calm my racing heart as he lets out a hum.
Does he feel the same things I do? Or is it all in my imagination?
When I pull away, Easton turns, and our eyes lock. He swallows hard, clears his throat, then thanks me.
“No problem,” I say, trying to find my words. He puts the sunscreen in his bucket and leads me closer to the water.
“This is where you have to look,” he says, bending down and picking up a shell that’s long and twisted.
“Wow, this one’s neat.” I study its texture. “I’m so excited.”
I let the wet sand squish between my toes, and when I look back, I can see our footprints in the sand. We’re quiet as we collect beautiful shells in different shapes and sizes. I try to be selective with the ones I take because I’m too tempted to pick up every single one I see.
“Check this out,” he says, walking closer to me holding something that’s lime green.
He places it in the palm of my hand, grinning wide.
“Oh, what is this?” I turn it around and hold it up in the sunlight, where it nearly glows.
“It’s sea glass. You can find different colors, and people collect it like crazy. I’ll have to show you some of the amazing art that’s been made from it.”
“So this is actual glass?”
Easton nods. “Yep, from broken bottles that have been weathered. It’s smooth around the edges, almost like a rock.”
“Yeah, wow. I guess I never realized this was a thing.”
“A lot of jewelry makers use it.” He’s standing close, almost too close, but I don’t want him to pull away.
“Is it rare?”
A chuckle escapes him, almost as if he’s nervous that we’re standing so close. There are too many unspoken words swirling around us. I dig my toes in the sand, unwilling to create space though I should.
“Depends on the color. Oh look,” he says, pointing at another piece on the ground.
I pick it up, and it’s an amber color.
“Sometimes, when the sun hits it at the right angle, it reflects the light. That’s a nice one.”
Holding my palm open, he scoops it into his hand, then lifts it up to the sky. Seeing him find joy in something that I’ve always wanted to do makes me happy. Of course, I’m still wound up and anxious, but Easton makes it easy to forget all the bad.
He hands it back, and I place it in my bucket. We make small talk for the next hour, and I take the opportunity to learn more about him.
“When did you know that you loved surfing?” I ask, curious.
“Oh, that’s easy. The first time I got on a board. There’s something about catching a wave and using your body to maneuver across the water. People say magic doesn’t exist, but anytime I surf, I can’t help but think it does.”
“That’s amazing. It’s a great hobby.”
“So is yoga,” he finally admits. “Even if I’m terrible at it.”
“It’s fun. Keeps me busy and focused on other things. Plus, it keeps me flexible. Other than that, I don't have much going for me. At least not like you.”
He tilts his head, meeting my eyes. I like it when he looks at me with that intense fire behind his gaze. “I might own a business, but what else do I have? It seems great, but it’s lonely sometimes too because most people don’t understand that sort of responsibility. At least not anyone my age.”
“I get that,” I say.
“I don’t have someone to share any of this with. No one to spoil or celebrate with.” He slows his pace. “Family’s great, and I love my job, but I can’t help feeling like something major is missing in my life.”
I open my mouth and close it, trying to come up with the proper response as the waves crash beside him.
“When the right person comes along, you’ll know. Being with someone, getting married, and doing that whole thing is overrated when you rush into something. Waiting to find the one is worth it.” I try to lighten the mood and shoot him a wink. “Coming from personal experience and all. I mean, I’m no relationship pro or anything.”
