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Chapter Eleven
Addi
“Have you ever surfed before?”
I nod. “A little here and there. My father loved it when he was younger and would often take my sister and me with him. I enjoyed my boogie board the most.”
He groans and gives himself a face palm. “A boogie board?”
“Hey, I have really good boogie board skills.” I elbow him playfully.
Cole leans close. “Oh, I know you do.” His intoxicating presence fills my senses. I want to taste him, to run my tongue along his lips down his jaw and to his neck.
My body heats, and my panties grow damp. Oh, this sexy man.
“Have you ever painted before?”
Cole shakes his head. “Not besides the painting they forced us to do in school.”
“Forced you, huh?” I toss a pen at him, and he throws me a dirty look.
A couple of weeks have passed since Cole rescued Aiden on the beach. That day still replays in my head even though Cole acts like it's no big deal and just part of his job. I get that; he teaches children to surf, so it makes sense he knows CPR, but how quickly he sprang into action while still remaining calm was amazing.
Aiden’s doing well, but he's not allowed to surf for a couple of months. Darlene came by a couple of times with food and chocolate dipped fruit. I like when she stops in because her bubbly personality is infectious.
“How about I teach you to paint, and you teach me to surf?”
Cole scoffs, and I wish I had another pen to throw at his head, but instead, I stick my tongue out like a five-year-old. “You? Surf?” he teases, which earns him a face. “You know it's not boogie boarding, right?”
I roll my eyes with a smile on my face. “Of course, I know it's not. It can't be much different.”
Cole raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Uh, it’s way different there, beach cutie. Who you been getting your info from?”
I love our banter. We tease each other and go back and forth, but it’s all in good fun. Working together has become easy and comfortable.
He's still secretive as hell, though. Mysterious and intriguing.
“You don’t do relationships at all?” I ask him out of curiousness.
He shakes his head, his long sandy locks falling across his blue eyes. Could he look any more like he belongs at the beach? Sand sticks to his chest, and my fingers itch to brush it off.
“No, I told you that.” He chews his bottom lip before turning back to his surfboard. He runs a cloth along the bottom, cleaning it from his recent surf. My insides twist. Damn, everything he does is sexy.
“Addi, listen. If you can’t handle—”
I brush imaginary sand off my skirt, not meeting his eyes. My cheeks burn. “Of course, I can handle it.” I wave my hand. “It’s what we agreed on, right? Besides, I'm only wondering is all. You don't tell me much.”
I want to know about his past relationships.
He's so tight-lipped about anything with his past it makes me curious. What happened?
Now he's going to think I'm developing feelings.
Which I'm not in any way.
I look up to see him studying me. He doesn’t believe me, and the puzzled look on his face confirms it. “Right ...” He trails off, dragging the word out in his Cali surfer accent I can’t get enough of.
“I think,” he says as he puts his surfboard aside and tosses the cloth on top of it, “it’s time we remember one of the reasons we’re hanging out.”
