Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SPENCER
Ihate the way we left it before Tate essentially ran away to New York, and I hate not knowing if he’s hooking up with anyone while he’s there. I trust Shane to keep everyone safe, but Tate being in the city still worries me.
The sex was mind-blowing the night before he left, and I saw the tears in his eyes as he came, so I know he felt it, too. Our chemistry is off the charts. I’m not sure why he’s trying so hard to push me away when we clearly have this crazy fucking connection.
Even though I’m bi, the idea of being with a girl again after Tate is completely off-putting.
Don’t get me wrong, I will always think women are beautiful, but I can’t go back after having a taste of Tate.
Being with a guy might be new, but it has also never felt so right. So comfortable. Because of him.
No, we’re not exclusive, but the thought of another man touching what’s mine makes me see red.
Tate is sexy and magnetic, so people are drawn to him.
He likes to be wild and free and march to the beat of his own drum.
It’s one of the things I like most about him, but it also worries me.
I’m afraid that he’s going to end the arrangement for good as soon as he gets back, when what I really want is to make him my boyfriend—
“Pass the joint, man,” Jake says, interrupting my brooding thoughts.
I sigh loudly, frustrated by my own feelings, and take another hit before passing it to him.
We don’t usually partake, but right now, both of us are a little down and out about our love lives.
I told him everything that just happened between Tate and me, minus the sexy details. No matter how much he tried to pry.
Jake inhales slowly, making the cherry glow orange, before exhaling a large plume of smoke.
“I think Daija just wants to be friends, but I won’t give up hope just yet,” he admits, and I smile sadly, glad my friend has hope when I have none.
Tate and I’s arrangement is going to end sooner or later. Most likely the former.
“Yeah. You never know.” I sigh again, missing Tate badly, even though he seems to have one foot out the door already.
I don’t fully understand why he has so many walls around his heart and such strict rules about relationships, but I can’t help but think it has something to do with his past. A past he has yet to share with me.
He’s pushing me away, and I don’t know how to stop it.
“Don’t give up on Tate,” Jake says, passing the joint back to me. “Your chemistry rivals Shane and Toby.”
“I don’t know, man,” I mumble, too high to talk about it any longer. I smoke the jay down to nothing, sticking it in my Coke can and listening to the sizzle. We space out and watch baseball for an hour before either of us utters another word.
“Dude, you know what?” Jake says, sitting up abruptly. “We need to stop being sad sacks of shit and do something to take our minds off our problems. We need to get the longboards out of the attic and go to the beach. It’s that time of year again, and the sea is calling to me.”
Jake’s right. I need to stop lying around and moping about the fact that Tate doesn’t want a boyfriend. Doesn’t want me. We haven’t surfed since last summer, and it’s long overdue.
“Let’s go, Poseidon,” I laugh, jumping up from the couch with a new burst of energy and heading upstairs to get ready.
I change into my wetsuit bottoms and turn around to look at my ass in the mirror, knowing Tate would enjoy seeing me in these.
I shake the thought from my head. It doesn’t matter what he’d think.
He’s not here. Besides, if I wear regular swim trunks, the waves will tear them off.
Been there, done that, and it was humiliating enough to have scarred me for life.
Searching through my closet, I pull my designated beach bag out of hibernation, tossing in sunscreen, lip balm, a towel, my wallet, and phone. I throw it over my shoulder and jog downstairs to meet Jake.
“Ready?” he asks, leaning against the wall by the front door. Our boards are propped up next to him with a tub of wax and two water bottles sitting on the ground in front of them.
“Yeah. Thanks for getting those down, man. I could have helped you.” I guess I was off in my own world, not paying attention to how long I took.
“Nah. It was easy, bro. Don’t worry about it.” He brushes it off. “I figured we could wax our boards on the beach. I’m anxious to get out there.” Jake smiles at me with understanding, picking up the wax and the water bottles. He sticks it all in his backpack before grabbing his board.
“Sounds good. I am, too,” I say, lifting my surfboard and tucking it under my arm.
I lock the front door behind us, grateful for the distraction and ready to dig my toes into the sand. The sea heals everything, but I’m not so sure it can heal a broken heart.
With our surfboards securely strapped to the roof rack, we hop in my Jeep and take off for the beach. It’ll be my first time in the water since last summer, and I can’t fucking wait.
Jake and I started surfing in middle school.
We took lessons together and used to go every single weekend.
At one point, we had dreams of competing professionally and getting sponsorships from Billabong.
As we got older, surfing was put on the back burner and real life took over, but we’ve never lost our love for it.
“Dude, I’m pumped,” Jake says with his elbow out of the window and hand on the roof as I drive down the sandy beach road.
“Me too,” I shout over the wind. I’m barely even thinking about Tate and what he’s doing in New York City. Barely.
“Turn at tenth street,” Jake informs me, pointing ahead to the next intersection.
We park at a public access point and hop out, grabbing our bags, boards, and locking the Jeep.
As we cross the boardwalk, shimmering blue waves come into view.
Seeing the ocean instantly calms me, and I can’t wait to get in.
I kick off my flip flops, holding them between my fingers as I trek across the beach.
Soft, white sand sinks between my toes, and it’s almost too hot to bear.
“There!” Jake calls, shouting over the wind and the waves. He points to an area away from the few other surfers out here. This is a local spot, and there are zero tourists in sight.
We set our boards and bags on the sand. I quickly apply sunscreen, spraying myself down and rubbing it in. I stare out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the shore. Today is a perfect day to surf. The wind is light, and the waves are tall, glassy, and peeling over just right.
“Ready?” Jake asks with a wicked grin, tucking his surfboard firmly under his armpit. He can’t wait any longer, and I don’t blame him.
“Fuck yeah.” I grab my board, and Jake takes off, sprinting toward the ocean. I run after him, laughing loud and carefree. Rough shells dig into the bottom of my feet, and cool water splashes against my ankles as I hop through the water.
“First one to catch a wave and ride it to shore buys dinner tonight,” Jake calls out, straddling his longboard and staring out into the horizon as I paddle over.
“What?” I laugh, floating on my board next to him. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does if you’re me, because I know you’re gonna win.” He grins goofily.
I shake my head at him, smiling into the warm, peaceful sunlight. “Fine. Whatever, dude. Deal,” I reply, agreeing to the ridiculous bet because I never would have dragged my ass out here without Jake hyping me up the whole time. Guess the least I can do is buy him dinner.
“Yes!” Jake fist-pumps into the air, knowing he’s getting a free meal later.
I catch sight of what looks like a decent wave coming our way.
“This one’s mine,” I declare with an excited grin, quickly getting into position and lying down on my board.
Adrenaline pumps through my body as I align myself with the wave, turning around and paddling toward the shore with strong, powerful strokes.
Once I’ve matched the wave’s speed and I feel the water carrying me, I place my hands under my chest and push up, jumping with the tips of my toes and bending my knees into a stable stance.
Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I lock in on my target. The shore.
“I want steak!” Jake shouts behind me as I ride the wave until it dies out.
I fall backward off my board into shallow water, jumping up and shaking my head like a wet dog when I pop up.
“Woohoo! Yeah!” I shout. That was thrilling. I forgot how much I love surfing.
I paddle back out to Jake with the biggest smile on my face.
“Damn, bro. On your first try, too. Show-off,” Jake teases.
“Nah. This is showing off!” I paddle farther out, heading toward another perfect-looking swell.
“Wave hog! If you catch this one, I get dessert, too!” he shouts after me.
I ignore him, easily catching another wave and riding it all the way to shore.
“You can have the next one,” I offer when I paddle back out to him.
“Oh, how generous of you to share the ocean with me,” he deadpans. “I’m getting chocolate cake,” he mumbles.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I spot another decent wave coming. “Get ready!” I shout, pointing behind him.
“What? Now?”
“Yes! The waves never stop, dummy. Now get ready, or I’m taking another one.”
“Okay! Okay!” Jake gets into position, paddling like a fucking tortoise when slow and steady most definitely does not win this race.
“Paddle harder!” I shout with my hands cupped around my mouth, but he does the opposite and completely freezes, letting the waves overtake him and knock him off his board. He pops back up, swiping the water from his face.
“You almost had it. Why’d you give up?” I ask with a scrunched brow.
“Nah. That one wasn’t right for me.”
I shake my head at his ridiculous statement, and we both turn around to watch as a perfect wave starts to form.
“This is the one! I can feel it!” Jake shouts, paddling into it.