12. Charli
CHARLI
On the way to pick up Gage for paddle-boarding my stomach is all nerves and I’m a sweaty mess.
Technically, I’m single and totally free.
We danced the other night and have been texting back and forth for days now.
I am attracted to him, but in reality, I could use a friend.
I’m all over the place in my feelings, and that’s not a healthy way to start something.
I keep practicing my friend zone speech in my head. You’re really nice, but I’m not looking for anything right now.
He’s waiting by the railing, scanning the traffic and wearing black swim trunks that drape across his strong thighs and a snug white t-shirt. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes, while a black hat shades his face. Damn, he looks really good, casual but still so nice to look at.
What does it matter? We’re just going to be friends. My palms stick to the wheel and my pulse picks up. I’m glad that I wore my sporty blue suit, I don’t want to show too much skin. I park and give him a little wave. He shoots me a megawatt smile, his teeth so white that it should be illegal.
I can’t tear my eyes away as he saunters over and climbs in the Jeep. “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”
“No problem,” I answer. He smells amazing. I lean closer in spite of myself, catching hints of cedarwood.
He taps his fingers on his knee and looks out at the harbor on the drive to Seal Rock Beach. I shift in my seat and start my nervous babbling as I drive.
“I promised Kari at The Wave Sport Shop two free meals for the rental and she agreed. Got to love small-town life. She explained how to inflate the board and it seemed easy enough. Is that good for you?”
“Yeah, that’s cool. I’ve surfed before, but have only been paddle-boarding a few times in the Caribbean.”
I feel his gaze on me and I’m self-conscious. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. So, do you travel there often?” I ask, gripping the wheel a little too tightly.
“Yeah, every winter since I turned eighteen.”
My eyes are trained on the road ahead, I know he’s still watching me. “I’d hope to get there someday,” I gush. “Do you love it?” I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
“It’s beautiful and a different pace of life, but I do miss the winter once in a while.”
“I wouldn’t mind a break from the cold and bleak weather.”
He laughs low in his chest as he watches the scenery pass.
“Come on. Do you really want to shovel snow again?”
He turns to me. “Nah. I can skip that.”
We drive along the coast road, passing by a local fishing spot and a wide marsh. A few old men are out digging for clams and a couple of kayakers meander through the low silty water. The road narrows and turns to dirt. Dust flies behind us as I slow down over the ruts.
“So I met your grandfather at the marina shop,” he says.
I giggle. I love Pop, but he can come off as a real hardass sometimes. “How was that?”
“It was fine. I had to get a part last week and today I needed to get new life jackets because mine were stolen.” His deep voice just does something to me. Something more than friendly.
“Sorry about your life jackets. Probably some punk kids took them. I hope Pop was nice to you.”
“Yeah he was helpful. I guess he’s friends with my Uncle Bill. I didn’t know that he spent time around here when he was younger.”
“Sometimes I think my Pop knows everyone in the East Coast boating community. It’s wild to think about what he was like when he was younger.” The road gets a little bumpy and we jostle in our seats.
“For sure, it's a small world,” he answers, gazing out at the view.
So, I was right in my guess the other night when Mimi and Pop were talking. Gage is their friend's nephew. It gives me goosebumps. I wonder if we would have met eventually. Their boat friends show up all the time.
After parking, I step up on the runners to unstrap my board from the roof rack.
“Do you need a hand?” he asks from inside.
“No,” I respond as I nearly clock him in the head. The breaking waves are too loud for me to hear him approach. Thankfully, he puts a hand out to shield himself from my hard paddle-board, before he takes it in both hands as I step down to the ground.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I’m so jumpy about being alone with him. It was so easy the other night when we were out and it was dark and we were drinking.
He’s paying attention to me and trying to be helpful. It’s not something I’m used to. I’m a disaster.
“No worries, I’m good. I was able to protect myself from your attack.”
I laugh, then we both pause and gaze at each other on the side of my board as we hold it steady.
My breath slows and the noise of the surf fades away.
The outline of his eyes is visible behind his sunglasses, my body betraying me with the urges I’m feeling right now.
I’m humming with energy being so near him.
I want his body next to mine so I can slip his sunglasses off and run my fingers through his hair. Focus. “Okay, your board is in the back. Want to grab it?” I say trying to give us some distance. I can’t jump into something new right away.
“Sure.” He lets go of my board and gets the gear from my Jeep and we both begin to lay our things out in the sand.
“Kari said it was pretty easy to pump this thing up,” I say putting my hands on my hips.
“Do you want help?” he asks.
“No, I think I can do it.”
He takes off his shirt and applies sunscreen.
The other night I could feel his hard muscles beneath his clothes when we were dancing.
But my God, he’s ripped. Broad shoulders and strong corded arms flow down into a trim waist. A chain dangles around his neck with a charm on it.
There’s a light dusting of hair just above his belly button that trails into the waistband of his shorts.
Shorts that are tied, but hang low enough to reveal the V in his ab muscles.
I turn quickly, sweating even more in the afternoon sun. Yeah, the sun I tell myself. It’s not my attraction to the guy who's rubbing sunscreen all over himself two feet away from me.
I peel off my tank and toss it in my bag. First, I attach the hose to the gasket in the board so I can begin inflating it with the hand pump. I get going fine, but then the hose detaches and air starts hissing out.
“Oh crap!” I shout as I bend down to grab the end of the hose.
The wind flips my hair in my eyes. I drop the hose and pivot to move my hair just as Gage is reaching down to help me.
He collides with my chest and gets a face full of my tits.
His nose is literally between my boobs. He reaches out to me to steady himself as I lose my footing and he grabs my chest on each side as he pulls his face away.
We stare at each other for a long three seconds with his hands still cupping me.
He looks down at my cleavage and then up at me before he pulls his hands away like they’re on fire.
“I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to grab you like that,” he stutters. “I didn’t want you to fall.”
“It was . . . My hair was . . .” I stammer.
“Uh, it’s okay.” Mortified, I smooth my hair back.
“Maybe we can inflate this thing together.” I’d be lying to myself if I deny that I didn’t like the feel of his calloused fingertips on my sides.
My skin still tingles from his touch. But just because I’m physically attracted to him doesn’t mean anything has to happen.
“Sure.” He sidesteps me and goes to the other side of the board. We pretend like he did not just motorboat me and feel me up at the same time. Maybe he's not into big boobs. Some guys like a little handful, not ones that need a full-support bathing suit.
We’re done in five minutes and I’m looking forward to cooling off in the water. The sweat is dripping off me, between my breasts now and down my back. As I glance at him, he’s got a sheen of perspiration going too. I hope he’s not regretting this outing and just being nice.
“Um, do you mind doing my back?” I squeak out.
“Sure, do you have your own sunscreen or do you want some of mine?”
“Whatever you have is good.” I shimmy out of my shorts and toss them on my bag, then turn my back to him. He squirts some lotion into his hand and starts on my shoulders. My skin is sticky and sweaty, an attractive combo. “Uhh, can you also get under my straps? Sorry, there’s a lot of them.”
“How do you even get into this thing? It’s like a web.
” He does it anyway, lifting them carefully and sliding his fingers underneath each one, with a gentle rub.
I hold my breath thinking about how his rough hands would feel all over the rest of my body.
A tingle starts in my core as he strokes down my back to the edge of my bottoms. He clears his throat.
“I think I got you covered. Did you already do your lower back?”
“Yes, I’m all set,” I spin around, and see him checking me out. “Want me to do you too?”
Poor choice of words, Char. My stomach drops at my comment.
“That’d be great,” he answers, the corner of his mouth lifts up.
He’s thinking exactly what I don’t want him to.
Passing me the bottle, he turns. I get some lotion and start rubbing his back in swift strokes, applying a nice amount of pressure. His broad shoulders and muscled back are hard and smooth at the same time. His muscles flex as I rub from his neck down to his shoulders.
“Did you get your lower back?”
“No, could you get there too?”
“Okay, sure,” I chirp. Try to be cool. I continue to rub lower, to the edge of his shorts. I go right up to the trim and dip my thumb down inside. He sucks in a sharp breath and shivers.
“Sorry, did I tickle you? I hate it when my skin gets burned right at the edge of my suit.” Oh my God, could I be any more awkward?
Unable to face him, I turn away. I just stuck my thumb into his pants and his butt is perfectly round, and from my exploration, firm too. I can’t stop thinking about him and how he must look with them off. This is not how people think about their friends.
“No, I'm good,” he chuckles.
I flick the bottle on top of his bag. “Let’s go. I’m so hot.”
We gather our boards, paddles and life jackets and wade into the water. We both dunk under quickly. I have a perfect view to gawk at him as he rises from the water, as if he’s in slow motion from a movie, rivulets of water cascading down his hard body. He flicks his hair and smiles at me.
Snap out of it.
Refreshed, I climb on my board to avoid his eyes. “Watch out for the rocks here. Despite that, I love coming here to paddle-board. Sometimes I see seals out on the rock cropping.”
“Cool, I'd love to catch a glimpse of that.”
“We might luck out since it’s late afternoon now. They're more active in the evening.”
He hops up onto the board and is able to stand immediately. Impressive.
“You’re a natural on the board.”
“Surfing helps with balance.”
Thankfully, I’ve got my shades on so hopefully he doesn’t see me ogling him too much. He looks like a quintessential surfer, longish blonde hair, tanned skin, low-slung board shorts, and a graceful stance.
I try to stay focused on his face, not his broad chest and rock-hard abs. But I fail miserably. Does he even have an inch of fat anywhere on his body?
When he smiles over at me, I feel warm inside. His eyes roam my body as we paddle along together, like I’m not the only one getting turned on.
I try to ignore the sensations.
I’m not looking for a man.
I’m doing self-reflection now and things for me.