Chapter 6
Holly
“Hey! What’re you up to?” Brynleigh asks. I fish my hand into the box of vanilla wafers I snagged from my classroom to bring home with me for the weekend.
“Eating some stress away. You?”
“Huh… Well, I have a solution. You in?”
“Depends what it is, before I agree.”
“Well, I’m picking you up in thirty. You sound like you need it. Get ready for the beach. Come lounge with me in the sun while Trystan surfs.”
I sit up and look around. That does sound better than my current plans of rotting on the couch with trashy tv. I walk back toward my room.
“Trystan surfs?”
“Yeah, that’s news to me too. We’ll see how it goes. Get ready. Bring a blanket in case the wind picks up and it gets chilly. It’s not Summer yet.”
“Good idea. Will his wetsuit keep him warm enough?”
“He assures me it will.”
“I’ll pack some snacks.”
“Sweet.”
When she honks in my drive, I’m dashing out the door, reaching last-second to snag my sunglasses off the entry table, before locking it.
‘Damn you’s a sexy bitch’, the lyrics by David Guetta and Akon’s Sexy Bitch cranks up, blasting out of Bryn’s speaker, causing me to laugh and drop my keys.
She honks as I bend over to pick them up, and I shake my head.
Leave it to Bryn. We’ve really gotten close over the past six months.
I just love her to pieces. I slide into her SUV, and she turns the loud banger down and grins at me.
“Hey, hot stuff! Got everything?”
“Nice song choice.”
“The moment presented itself. I couldn’t pass it up.”
We both snicker as she pulls out and makes her way onto the scenic highway.
“So, where’s he surfing?”
“Figured he’d check the swell at Long Sands and see how his arm handles it before he decides on going up to Ogunquit. He hasn’t surfed in years.”
“What made him want to go?”
Brynleigh shrugs her shoulders noncommittally.
“Typically, the best surfing here is with the fall and winter swells, but apparently a system came in with some good conditions. There will probably be a decent amount of people grabbing their boards today.”
“Interesting tidbit of info.”
Bryn smiles wide.
About twentyish minutes later, we’re pulling into the public lot. She was right. There are lots of vehicles here today. I notice Trystan’s truck right off the bat. We hop out and suck in the salty air. This definitely beats the corn and bean fields back home.
“I brought a speaker!” Brynleigh’s muffled voice exclaims from her bent over form as she gathers supplies from the backseat.
“Sweet.”
We drag the sand blanket out to the perfect spot and set up camp. I open the cooler and pull out some cut up salami and cheese and plop it in the middle along with a jar of baby dills.
“Mmm, pickles…” Bryn draws out as she reaches in to grab one. I pull out the fork and stick it in the jar after that. “Oh, guess I should’ve waited for that.”
“Girl, your fingers are spotless compared to all the little grubby hands I deal with all week. I’m not worried about sharing your germs.”
“Fair point.”
“So, do you see him?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the sun and scoping the water.
“Yup, he’s out there waiting for his wave to our left a little bit. Orange and yellow board.”
Sure enough, I see the orange and yellow board with the very stacked, and very lethally muscled, man attached to it.
“Dang, Bryn, his muscles look like he painted on that wetsuit.”
“I know, right? I’m looking forward to seeing it peel off,” she mumbles, crunching on a pickle with enthusiasm.
“I think every woman on this beach would agree with you,” I answer with a snicker, and she nudges me with her elbow. She’s not mad about it though. Trystan is fine as wine, and anyone who says otherwise is lying straight through their teeth.
“Ope, there he goes! He’s going to try this one!”
Trystan’s paddling hard, and we watch with rapt fascination as he takes the wave. It doesn’t look like he’s been off the board for years.
He drops off in the aftermath of the wave, and when he comes up, the infectious glee from his ‘whoop!’ makes us giggle.
Another wave comes in with a rider after Trystan.
When they come out of the water, the other man turns just enough, running his hand through his hair, that I choke on my baby dill.
“Oh, look at that! Looks like Trystan has a surfing buddy!” Brynleigh notes smugly while popping a cheese cube into her mouth. “Hot damn, looks like his wetsuit could be painted on too. Not that I’m complaining. Like, where did he find the time to hit the gym during his residency?”
“Huh…” I bite the inside of my cheek and turn my head slowly her way.
“Surfing buddy. Did you know about this surfing buddy?” She tosses a whole baby dill in her mouth, looking sheepishly guilty.
An irritated sigh huffs out of me as I swivel my head back toward the two men very clearly walking our way. Jaxon looks good. Damn good.
“Man, it feels good to be back out in the water. I’m so glad you called this morning. How’s the move coming along?” I overhear Trystan ask Jaxon as they get within earshot.
“The move’s going well. I just have a few larger items to load in my truck, along with my bike, and I’ll be done with the old place. You were doing well out there. Maybe we can try Ogunquit sometime soon, if another system brings us some good swells.”
“Deal. And you said bike, didn’t you? You ride? You’re just full of surprises,” Trystan says, shaking his head as Jaxon nods with a grin.
“Great job, baby!” Brynleigh hollers as they close in on us.
Trystan pulls Bryn up into his arms for a big hug and kiss, even as she squeals and fights the cold water dripping off him, but she melts into it and celebrates his ability to get back out there and surf decently with a giggle. She rubs at his shoulder, asking if it feels okay.
“It’s good. Now give me one of those dills,” he demands, one of his dimples popping up with the big ol’ grin on his face. Those things are lethal. Brynleigh pops one into his mouth, and he lets out an appreciative hum.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Jaxon rasps at me, his voice lightly laced with the remnants of exertion from his joyride. It’s husky, and I shiver. Thank goodness for the breeze.
“What’d I tell you about calling me sweetheart?” I chastise, inwardly groaning when his smile widens and his fucking dimples come out to play too.
“You’ll warm to it eventually.”
“Unlikely.”
“We’ll see.”
I let out a little frustrated growl, and he chuckles low and throaty.
“Wanna catch a few more? Let the ladies watch us in our element?” Trystan asks, mischief glittering in his eyes.
“You bet,” Jaxon answers, tossing me a wink. “Don’t stare too hard at my ass when I walk away.”
I scoff hard, earning a hearty laugh, but I’m unable to tear my eyes away from that ass while he strolls into the water. Worse yet, he caught me looking. I flop back onto the mat and cover my face as Brynleigh cracks up.
“That was the best entertainment I’ve had since Ava and Mark used to go at each other’s throats. You can literally feel the tension dripping off you two. It’s awesome. Is that what you guys felt when Trystan and I were circling each other?”
“Pretty much. Except Trystan had to tamp it down a bit more since Mark didn’t know.
We caused a lot of distraction where we could because he was failing miserably.
I don’t know how Mark didn’t see it earlier.
He was probably avoiding the thought at all costs.
Denial and all that, right?” I pop a colby jack cheese cube. Mmm, my favorite.
“Yeah, well, Jaxon isn’t being subtle. He’s not just circling like a curious shark–he’s straight up hunting you.” She does the Jaws ‘dud um’, and I laugh hard. She’s right.
The urge to claim your lips right here and now to reacquaint myself with how sweet you taste is driving me wild.
I gulp at the memory of his words earlier this week. I can still feel him a hairsbreadth away, his body’s heat threatening to light me on fire in the middle of that damn aisle.
Caramel by Sleep Token is playing on Bryn’s speaker, and that wetsuit is definitely taking the hint and sticking to him just as deliciously as some fucking caramel.
I could totally go for a bit drizzled over some ice cream right about now.
My mind wanders to our run-in last night, while I was on a last-minute date.
“So, do you prefer alfredo or lasagna?” Grant asks as he opens my car door parked outside of Marcketti’s.
“Alfredo girl, all the way, but no hate on lasagna. If it’s pasta, I’ll probably eat it. Just don’t put mushrooms in it.” Grant laughs and pushes up his glasses along the bridge of his nose. He looks like the kind of guy who loves sausage and mushroom pizza. Ick.
“Why the hate for mushrooms?”
“Let me guess, you’re a sausage and mushroom pizza guy?”
“Definitely,” he mumbles, stopping near the door but not opening it for me. Hmmm. He opens car doors but doesn’t think to grab the restaurant door. I turn to grab the door, but I’m beaten to it by another masculine hand. I look up to find arresting green eyes, definitely not attached to my date.
“After you.”
My mouth drops open for a second.
“Just going to add that I agree on the no mushrooms tidbit. Sorry for overhearing,” Jaxon announces, winking at me with his last word.
“Thanks, man.” Grant steps in front of me and claps Jaxon on the shoulder as he enters the building. Well then. Jaxon shakes his head, then looks at me, expression bored.
“Wow. Dating app?”
I blush deeply.
“Well, I hope your dinner is nicer than your company seems. Make him open doors for you, Holly. You deserve it.”
“Have a good night.”
“Sure.” Jaxon presses his lips together and starts to walk off to the front desk for a pick-up but turns back on his heel.
“You look really pretty,” he adds. A soft smile pulls on his lips that tells me he’s not thrilled seeing me out with another guy, but he’s going to be a gentleman anyway. It hits me in the gut.