“Anything?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I dunk my head into the sixty-three-degree water. Fuck, that’s cold as shit. We’re out the back—a term I learned as Xander was helping me paddle out past the crashing waves—with Old Yello’, his ten-foot bright-yellow log of a surfboard he promises anyone can stand up on.
It just so happens that surfers never rock up for a surf with a single board. His mom had Old Yello’ strapped to the roof of her carjust in case. Scarlett had a spare swimsuit in the truck of her carfor emergencies. And one of dudes had some board shorts for Xanderbecause you never know. Everyone’s so helpful around here. Like one big happy family. Not going to lie, do I feel uncomfortable wearing Scarlett’s swimsuit? Yes. Is it the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn in the ocean? Also yes. I don’t need to worry about a wardrobe malfunction wearing this. Unlike the flimsy two-piece I have at home.
I rest my elbows on the board that floats between us, trying to get as much of my body out of the water as possible.
I look over at Xander, whose entire body is submerged in the ocean. He’s just a floating head at this point. His curls are sticking up every which way, on the account of the hair whip he did after dunking his own head that had no business being sexy. Fat water beads drip down his face, making me look at his lips.
He’s so open and relaxed. There’s a softness about him that makes him so inviting, like being in the ocean is a big exhale for him. I’m the complete opposite right now. On edge. Tightly wound. Closed off.
“I can’t believe you grew up in the Valley and you’ve never been surfing,” he says, taking some salt water into his mouth and spitting it out.
“It’s fucking freezing,” I say as Xander’s eyes skim over my bare arms that are now flushed with goose pimples. From the water or Xander? No one will ever know.
“Get up on the board,” he says, swimming around, clearly unaffected by the cold. “I’ll hold it in position.”
I do as I’m told, climbing onto the surfboard that barely budges as I straddle it, my legs now the only body part in the water. The sun immediately starts to warm up my skin. I look up and see the shore ahead of me, with its sandy dunes and lush green vegetation. Regardless of how many people are coming and going, out here, we don’t hear any of it.
It’s—dare I say it?—peaceful.
Another piece of the Xander puzzle attempts to fit in with what I think I know about him.
I look down at him, but he’s not looking at me. He’s got his eyes cast out to sea. Looking for a wave, no doubt. The way he’s holding the board, my left leg is caged in. I can’t help but notice how close he is to me as he holds the board steady like he promised. Holdsmesteady.
No time like the present to ruin it.
“So, your mom and your ex are close,” I say, trying to keep it casual. “Was that your hopes and dreams?” Smartass oozes from my voice.
He turns to look up at me. “Scarlett?” For a moment I think I’ve stumped him. But his eyes sparkle with amusement. “I washopingfor a civil breakup, so yeah, I suppose so.”
My brain glitches at this.
Civil breakup? That’s a thing?
When my mom found out my dad was cheating on her, she tore the fucking house down, declaring, “Sex ruins everything.” Then she did a 180 kick-flip declaring that they—my parents—were still “madly in love.” Then she cried so much I thought she was going to drown in her own tears. And then Dad told me love was unrealistic and left.
So my mom became a sex therapist. And my dad stayed true to his word. Until now.
“The divorce wasn’t civil, was it?” Xander says, reading my mind. I hate this new development between us.
I smile through gritted teeth.No.
He lifts his hand off the board and squeezes my knee.I’m sorry.
“Why did you want to become a lawyer?” I say, changing the subject.Hopes and dreams.
“I feel sexy and powerful in a good suit,” he says, deadpan. I can’t help but laugh at this, and I’m grateful that he cut the somber mood with a joke.
“Come on,” I say, splashing him. “Be for real.” The water drips down his face, catching on his long eyelashes. He locks eyes with me and the fucking look on his face tells me everything that’s about to happen.
“No, I’m sorry,” I say, raising my hands up, but it’s too late. Xander pulls me in. I squeal as my body hits the water, a shockwave reverberating through every cell.
When I surface, I’m inches from Xander. Suddenly, I’m not so cold.
“Was that necessary?” I say, wiping the hair from my face. No fancy hair whip for this kook.
