12. Cassie
CASSIE
Watching a professional athlete wipe out half a dozen times is more than a little entertaining.
“I don’t mind this bit,” Robbie says, laid flat on his back on the board.
He tugged his wetsuit down to his hips and now all I can see is his glistening abs as the ocean rocks the board underneath him.
One leg is floating in the water and his arm is slung over his face.
The setting sun bathes him in a bronze glow and he looks almost like a Greek statue washing up on driftwood.
We’ve been waiting for a wave for the last ten minutes, but the sun is setting on the horizon and the water is still beneath us. I’ve taken a few of my friends out on the water—Pip is freakishly good thanks to all her pilates strength—but I’ve never had as much fun as I have teaching Robbie.
“You’re a good student.” I tell him, flicking salty water at his face.
He blinks one eye open at me. “You’re a terrible teacher.”
I scoff. “Just because you didn’t get up straight away.”
“Every time I fell, you laughed!” he protests, tilting his head up.
I bite my lip to stop my smile. “Because your little yelp was funny.”
“I didn’t yelp—” I kick his board from underneath him, laughing as he tips into the water with a very audible ‘eep’. The base of the board pops up, the fin sticking high in the air and my laugh shakes my board beneath me.
Until he takes too long to resurface.
I start to tilt over the board to peer into the rapidly darkening depths, my heart starting to pound in my chest, when suddenly a force tips my board and I’m plunging into the water.
It only takes me a second to recenter myself before kicking to the surface, Robbie’s damp grin and wet hair right in front of my face.
“Yelp,” he grins.
My feet kick beneath me as I splash water at him, and it only takes seconds before we’re full-on fighting in the water. I grab his shoulders with the intent of pushing him under, but my thumb lands on the divot at the base of his neck, his pulse hammering against the thin skin.
I suddenly take stock of our surroundings, my hand on his collarbone, his hand on my waist and our legs tangling together in the water. I can feel his hard body against mine, and the urge to wrap my legs around his hips takes me so suddenly that I feel myself drifting closer.
I watch as a droplet of water from his hair runs across his face, balancing on his top lip, and I want to kiss it away, already knowing what he tastes like.
“Fuck,” he mutters and I silently echo the statement. “Our boards.”
It snaps me out of whatever dickmatised trance I was in. “Shit.”
The rapidly darkening sky makes it difficult to work out where we are. We’re not too far out from shore, but both of our boards have officially abandoned us.
Spotting mine closer than Robbie’s, I pivot in the water and swim over to the board in only a few strokes
“I got it,” I call out to him.
I hoist myself up before paddling back to him, his dark head barely visible in the distance. Thank god he’s a strong swimmer or I’d have to be doing some pretty awkward explaining to my father when I tell him I lost his star player at sea.
I shift onto my front and paddle, using the momentum of the tide and my own strength to grab his board.
“I would have gotten it,” Robbie tells me when I tow it back to him.
“This is one of my favorite boards.” I watch as he re-boards with an ease that you wouldn’t expect from a novice. “I’d hate for it to end up on trash island. Come on, we should head back in.”
We’re silent as we both paddle back to shore, the waves too calm to ride in on. Whatever camaraderie we built out on the water has gone now we’re back on dry land. Anxiety starts to creep in.
Twilight has made room for night by the time we trudge up into my back yard.
Robbie looms behind me like a shadow as I stack the boards back on the rack.
I should say something, anything, to break the unbearable tension.
We nearly kissed out there, right? Why is he trying to deny this?
More than ready to snap this tension like a band, I make my decision.
I straighten my spine, sticking my chest out further. He’s close enough that I nearly brush his bare chest with my bikini top.
“I’m taking a shower now,” I tell him, making sure to linger my eyes on his lips.
His jaw clenches as I raise my hands to my bikini strap. “Do you want one too?” I allow my voice to drop to the sultry tone I’ve used on more than a few willing men in my time. “It’s big enough.”
He swallows as one of the strings of my bikini falls, the damp material still clinging to my breasts. I swear his eyes drop for a split second before he backs away.
“I think my phone is ringing, you go ahead.”
Biting back disappointment, I strip the rest of my clothes off and step into the shower.
By the time I’m finished, a wetsuit is hanging neatly on the balcony railing and his car is gone from my driveway.