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He raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Wow, that’s impressive. Tough school, big city. You’re a strong, cute beach chick. Good for you.” He raises his cup to me and drinks.
I’m taken aback. Did he really just call me a strong, cute beach chick? Maybe I should be offended by that but strong and cute? Go me.
And a beach chick? I laugh to myself. I am from this small surfing beach town, but I always tried not to be like all the other locals. Guess your roots can’t be hidden.
“Thanks,” I say. This guy. He’s sexy, cute, and sweet. Oh, boy.
“Addi! Over here!” I turn to see Leigh waving at us from up the beach, her tiny frame bouncing up and down. She’s in line for horseshoes, standing next to a couple of guys. One is standing really close and keeps trying to touch her. I can tell she loves every minute of it; her body language is a dead giveaway. Relief floods me. Glad I found her.
“Let’s go get in line with them,” Cole suggests, and I follow him up the beach. A game of horseshoes sounds fun.
We spend the night laughing, drinking a shit ton more punch, and playing round after round of horseshoes. Leigh is enjoying her new friend’s company, a local from a few towns over named Joe.
It’s after two a.m., and the party’s still going strong. I vaguely remember Leigh disappearing with Joe. But they’ve been gone for a while, so Cole and I sit next to the fire and shoot the shit. I feel like I’ve known him forever.
The conversation flows back and forth, me rambling on about my love for art and my unsupportive parents. Cole goes on about his shop, his customers—loyal and not so loyal ones, and his gramps who he’s close to and helps care for.
Something about the way he talks about his gramps tugs at my heartstrings. I was never close to my grandparents, though I always wanted to be. I remember my grandmother from my mom’s side was always happy and loving.
“You didn’t grow up around here, did you?” My eyes squint as I study him. His long, lean frame stretches out before me, which allows me to soak up every bit of him. He reminds me of home, this beach, my childhood, and it draws me to him.
“About thirty minutes north of here. I used to come down here for surf lessons, catching a bus and spending hours in the water. The waves were perfect and still are.”
“I agree. I may be a tad bias, but I know people come from all around just to see them.”
“Are you glad to be back?”
“It’s home.” I shrug. “Though, most of the time, it doesn’t feel that way.”
Cole slides closer to me on the blanket, and my breath hitches. “I know exactly how you feel.” The bright blue color of his eyes shines in the reflection of the fire, that look of sadness still there. Why is he hurting? The question passes through my brain too quickly, my hazy mind unable to keep up.
He dips his head down, and his warm breath brushes against my skin. I break out with goose bumps. “I don’t know why, but there’s something about you, Addi. Something pulling me in, telling me to get to know you.” His words fall over me in a hushed whisper, and my mind goes blank.
Funny. I feel the exact same pull.
“Must be all this punch.” I toss him a smile, and my gaze falls to his mouth. His sexy mouth I want to kiss.
Chill, Addi. No kissing allowed.
“I only had beer.” His intense gaze runs over me.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, the heat popping between us like the fire before us. “I’m an open book, so ask away. Besides, we pretty much bared our souls to each other tonight.”
Cole cracks a small smile, and I feel like I won a small victory.
“Ha!” I laugh. “Got you to smile.”
He stares at me with a puzzled look. “What? I always smile.”
I tap his arm, my fingers itching to touch any part of him. “I’ve known you, what, all of three hours, and I have yet to see you smile. You’re a tough nut to crack.”
Cole beams, and I clap my hands. “Not that tough. You win.”
“I always do.” I throw him a wink, and he smiles again.
Our enjoyment surrounds us, encasing us in a bubble as the night slips by into the early morning hours. My focus is on him. The way he chews on his bottom lip while he’s listening, or how his breathing picks up a notch every time we touch. My eyes follow the outline of his body, the strong arch of his back, down to a lean waist, and long, strong legs. You can tell he works hard and spends a lot of time in the sun.
“Gramps is always telling me to smile. I used to more often. But life. It gets to you, you know?”
