He’s kneeling on his paddle board, in only those turquoise board shorts, the picture of cool.
It’s hard to believe I do anything to him.
“Fuck, you look good enough to eat.” He drops his voice an octave. “I will. Later.”
“I’m not sure.” My heart beats so loud I hear it in my head. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Later doesn’t have to mean today.”
My breath hitches.
“But it can.”
My sex clenches. Fuck, there’s no way I’m balancing like this. I need to change the subject. To discuss… anything else. “So, um, why Venice?”
“Why West LA?”
“Cheap rent.” Well, cheapish. “I lived in the dorms my first two years. Which was nice in a certain way. Life was on campus. It was easy to head to the dining halls or the frat parties.” Or the library, my usual Friday and Saturday night hangout spot. “Then I got a job at the hospital over on Santa Monica Boulevard.”
He nods. “I know that one.”
I switch sides. Drag my paddle through the water. It’s nice, gliding over the marina. Peaceful. “I figured it was time to spread my wings. It was near the freeway, so it wasn’t too bad getting around when traffic was light.”
“So never?”
My laugh is more awkward than anything. “Yeah. I… I won’t miss that.”
“What will you miss?”
“God, where do I start?” I motion to the sun. “This.”
“Chicago summers are beautiful.”
“Yeah. But the rest of the year?”
“You’re not a fan of snowstorms?”
I shake my head. I hate cold. I hate rain. I hate wind. I hate snow. Winter completely fails to appeal. Seventy and sunny all December—that’s perfect weather. “No, it’s beautiful here. I love the steadiness of the sun. It can be oppressive sometimes. Especially with this situation.” I motion to my incredibly pale stomach.
“It suits you.”
“Thanks. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in California who isn’t tan and blond.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “You have a problem with this?”
“No. It’s more… there’s a certain look here.”
“The size two blond with big fake tits?”
“Exactly.” I set my paddle on the board. Let the water carry me. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being blond or thin or busty, natural or unnatural.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Was that your type?”
“Don’t have a type.”
“But if you had to pick?”
His eyes find mine. His brow furrows. He works something out. “I don’t care how big a woman’s tits are.”
“You don’t appreciate big tits?”
“Appreciate, sure? But it’s more about how good they feel in my hand.”
My cheeks flush.
My sex clenches.
Even though I’m sitting, I wobble.
Fuck.
We’re back to sex.
It’s so easy to go back to sex with Wes.
It’s impossible not to.
“I, um, I’m surprised my parents didn’t have an ulcer when I decided to go to USC,” I say. “They aren’t fans of California.”
“I remember that.”
“They wanted me to stay home. Or least somewhere with equally frigid winters and public transportation.”
“You’re going back to Chicago.” His paddle glides through the water. “There must be something appealing about it.”
“You want to know the truth?”
He nods.
“It was the best med school I got into. And… I probably only got in because Dad went there.” I press my lips together. Suck a breath through my nose.
“Would you rather stay here?”
“I think so.”
“You want to try standing?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” I’m nowhere near steady enough yet. And I…
I don’t want to fail.
“Try,” he says.
I shake my head.
His eyes fix on mine. “Try kneeling.”
“You say that a lot?”
He chuckles. “Try.”
“I…”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
I could look like an idiot. Fail. Fall on my face.
But I can’t say any of that.
Those aren’t real consequences.
Falling isn’t a big deal.
In theory.
“If you fall, you land in the water.” His voice is steady. Easy. “No big deal.”
My teeth sink into my lip.
He’s right.
I have no excuse.
I have to at least try.
Okay. Deep breath. Steady inhale.
I push myself onto my knees. Pick up my paddle. Slice through the water as quickly as possible.
My board glides through the marina.
I stay upright.
Well, upright ish.
It’s happening. I’m doing it.
Wes keeps pace next to me.
A speed boat drives by on the other side of the marina. It sends tiny waves rippling through the water.
They rock us back and forth.
I have to lean back on my heels to keep my balance.
But I do.
“Why did you stay here?” I ask.
“Never thought about it that way. It never occurred to me to leave. How would I fuck with Hunter if I left?”
My lips curl into a smile. He’s teasing.
It helps. It really does.
“You ever hear of text?” I ask.
“Text? Not enough. I can make his life miserable almost every day now.” Wes pops to his feet. Drags his paddle through the water. “And Chase—well, you’ve met him. I don’t have to do much. He stays miserable all on his own.”
“Whatever happened to his girlfriend?” I ask.
Wes shakes his head. “Don’t ask him that.”