Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Bryce
I’m hyper aware of Claire. And so is my dick. It’s like the kiss has unleashed something between us, something I wasn’t expecting.
I shift my stance again, and try to focus on what her friends are saying. But I can’t stop glancing at her, at the smooth lines of her arms, the way her lips move when she’s talking.
I need to talk to her again.
I wonder who the hell that asshole was, and why he thought he could treat her like that.
Her ex, that much was clear. My mood darkens at the memory of the fear on her face, the way she was trembling, the marks on her arm.
Why she’d waste her time with someone like that is beyond me.
She could have any man she wanted, surely.
And I’m kind of hoping I might be the man she wants.
Fuck this. I’ve had enough of waiting.
“Who needs another drink?” I wave my half-empty beer at the group. “Just going to the bar.”
“I’ll have another, mate.” Matt’s blue gaze is shrewd. He doesn’t miss much, and he knows I don’t need another beer. “If you’re going that way. Take your time though.”
Yeah, he fucking knows. I shrug, flashing him a grin as I cover the short distance to the bar. Kylie sees me coming and touches Claire on the arm, saying something before heading off towards the bathroom.
And then it’s just me and Claire.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide, a faint hint of pink on her cheekbones. I want to kiss her again, want to feel her melting against me.
But all I say is “Hey.”
“Hey.” Her lips curve in a sweet smile, and I’m already getting hard. What is this girl doing to me?
“How’s your arm?”
She blinks, then folds her arm against her, as though she wants to hide it.
“I saw how hard he was grabbing you. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “Honestly. Thanks again.” Her face shuts down, though, and I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it. That’s cool. I can do that.
“So, how come you live in a surf community if you don’t like surfing?” I give her my best shit-eating grin.
She laughs, her face lighting up once more. God, she’s beautiful. “I don’t hate surfing,” she says. “I just … don’t do it.”
“You don’t? Living near waves like this?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Not my scene.” Something flickers across her face then, and I’m intrigued. There are layers to this girl and I want to peel them off, slowly, find out what’s underneath. The fact I want to peel her clothes off as well is beside the point.
But something tells me I need to move slowly. Which isn’t usually my style. I’m around for a few weeks, though, so maybe I should try something different. I realise she’s said something to me. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, do you have a place down here?”
“No. Just passing through. Wouldn’t mind it, though. One of my favourite spots in the entire world.”
“Oh, okay.” She takes a sip of her drink and looks around. Fuck. Maybe I’m boring her.
“Hey, why don’t you let me take you out?”
“Out?”
“Surfing. You know, give it a try.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” Her hand comes to her mouth, ocean eyes widening again. I could lose myself in those depths. “I don’t even go swimming, really.”
“You live down here and you don’t swim?”
She shrugs. “I love the ocean. But there’s something about being out of my depth I don’t like.”
“Even if someone is there with you?” A fierce protective urge comes over me. “Someone who knows the water?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” She flashes those blue eyes at me again. “I’ve never tried that.”
“That settles it, then. You’re coming for a swim with me. Let me show you how beautiful this place is when you see it from the ocean.”
“A swim with you?” She arches one eyebrow, her mouth curving at the corner. Christ. I want to take her outside, under the whispering gum trees, and kiss her until neither of us can stand. Which is the opposite of moving slowly. So I change tactics.
“Yeah. Unless you’re scared, of course.”
“Scared?” Her chin lifts, but there’s a glint of laughter in her eyes.
“Yeah. So, what do you say? You in, or you chicken?” I’m taking a gamble here. But I saw how she was with the girls in the shop, how she was with me. This girl is fierce when she wants to be. Hopefully she likes a challenge.
It seems she does. “No chickens here,” she says, her gaze narrowing slightly. “Name your time and I’ll be there.”
“Fairhaven beach. Just by the surf club. Tomorrow morning. Eleven?”
“Ten, and you have a deal,” she says, all defiance. It’s a fucking turn on. Everything about her has my body humming, to be honest.
But before I can talk her into coming outside with me, Kylie returns, bringing Matt and Claire’s two friends with her.
“Thought we’d come and join you two. Unless you want to be alone, of course,” she says, with a wicked glance at me. I turn to Claire but she’s already talking to her friends. She catches my eye though, and to my surprise, winks at me.
Damn. I want this girl.
Claire
The house is quiet when I let myself in just after midnight. It always is, I suppose, except for the distant roar of the ocean, the rustling sigh of the gum trees.
Most of the time I don’t mind. But tonight it feels lonely, as though it’s waiting for someone else to arrive, to be lived in properly again.
I still can’t get over the evening I’ve had.
It was supposed to be a few drinks with friends, but instead I feel shaken from head to toe. And it’s all down to one person.
Bryce Maylands.
He made sure we all got home safely, somehow arranging several taxis, hugging me in the parking lot before leaving with Kylie and Matt. I didn’t even know who he was this morning, and now not only do I have some sort of swimming date with him tomorrow, but I’ve kissed him as well.
And he kissed me back. Pleasure thrums through me again at the memory of being in his arms, of feeling those abs pressed against me, his full lips teasing mine.
I haven’t kissed a lot of boys, to be honest. Or girls.
Or anyone, really. I was kind of a late bloomer in high school, then, when I finally got to the point where I actually started kissing people, my whole life fell apart.
Romance went on the back burner for a while, pretty much until I met Simon.
Who, if I’m being honest, wasn’t the best kisser.
Quite the opposite of Bryce.
I make myself tea and wander out to the deck, leaning on the balustrade.
The ocean is dark, pale lines of foam gleaming under the pale moonlight, the distant sparkle of Lorne against the undulating headlands.
Is it sad that the best kiss I’ve ever had was with a random guy at a bar?
And that it was also essentially a lie to get me out of a bad situation?
It feels a bit pathetic when I think about it like that.
But Bryce feels anything but random. Ever since he walked into the shop, I feel as though we’re on some sort of collision course, like we were meant to meet.
Maybe it’s weird, maybe it’s me clutching at straws, but there’s a connection between us I can’t deny.
I sip my tea, blushing at the memory of pulling his head to mine.
He was a good sport to go along with it; I’ll have to remember to thank him again when I see him in the morning.
Fuck. The morning. I sink down into one of the cushioned lounge chairs.
What was I thinking, agreeing to go swimming with him?
I obviously had one cocktail too many. I groan, dropping my head in my hands.
I wasn’t lying when I said I love the ocean.
I do, otherwise I wouldn’t be living here.
But he is literally a professional surfer, and I’m someone who barely likes to go hip-deep in the waves.
Maybe when he sees how terrible I am at swimming he’ll agree to do something else.
Or maybe he’ll be happy to let me wait on the beach while he goes in.
But there was such challenge – and humour – in his voice that I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know I was scared. So I pushed back, liquid courage and the remnants of that kiss burning through me.
Ten, and you have a deal.
And then I winked at him. Oh god.
So now I not only have to get up early on my day off, but I also have to go for a swim. With Bryce Maylands.
I take my tea back inside, glancing at the time with a sigh. But, a short while later, as I set my alarm for the morning, I can’t help the throb of excitement running through me at the thought of seeing him again. Even if I do have to go swimming.