Normally, every guy in Hawaii with a heartbeat and a swinging dick will try for the sunset date, including me. It’s an easy closer, or what we call a panty-dropper. If you’re looking to get laid, it makes it a hell of a lot easier.
I scan the beach, searching for some sign of her. To see the silhouette of her hips swinging with each step down the sand. Unfortunately, the only silhouette out here is Cohen’s. He’s getting time in on his board before his day starts. He rides a wave until it brings him right into the shoreline and then hops off the side, pulling his surfboard up out of the water and walking toward me all in one smooth-as-fuck motion.
“Why aren’t you surfing?” He comes into focus as he walks toward me. I know they say it’s always darkest before the dawn, but it’s really not. I can clearly see my friend’s eyebrows shoot up his face as he questions me.
“Waiting,” I answer and take another quick peek around for Joss.
Still nothing. I’m starting to think I’ve been stood up. Too bad. I really wanted to share this with her. Sunsets make it easier to fuck, and I’d be Pinocchio if I said our skin pressed together, heat building up between us as I slide every inch of my cock inside her hasn’t crossed my mind. Do I want to watch her tits bounce and watch her eyes roll back in her head as I explode inside her? Fuck, yes. But I was looking for more with this date. I wanted to share a piece of myself with her. To share a real moment.
“For …?” Cohen leans his board on the back of our shop and grabs a towel. He aggressively rubs it over his blond hair and then shakes off the rest of the water like a dog who escaped the bathtub.
“Can’t you do that over there?” I point behind him. I don’t want the ocean in my coffee, man.” I frown.
“You need to relax, Finn. Why don’t you drop in for my class today? You could use some Zen.” He touches my shoulder.
“No, I’m good. I was supposed to meet a girl here. She was something else, man. It’s too bad she ditched our date.” I press my lips flat.
“You wanted to take her surfing? Now? You must like her, huh?”
“Yeah, I thought she was cool, like she seems really grounded. I think she’s a smart chick. Stunning, too,” I add.
Cohen nods. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went on a date with a girl last night and she blew my mind, man. Like, I’ve never met a girl like her before.”
“Why the fuck would I feel better?”
“I dunno.” Cohen shrugs and tilts his head drying his ears on the towel. “I thought you’d be happy for me or something?”
“So happy.” My voice is dead. I take a long, obnoxious sip of coffee and glare at him from over the edge of the mug.
“Bro, this is what I’m talking about.” He points at me. “You need to find your center and breathe through some shit. You’re too uptight, your sarcasm isn’t fooling anyone,” he lectures and I roll my eyes.
“I don’t need yoga, you need to not be an asshole,” I answer. “It’s like, if I was a kid who bailed in the sand and just dropped his ice cream everywhere then you’re the little fuck who walks up to me, with a full cone starting to melt in the sun. And if that’s not bad enough, you lick it off and say, ‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, my ice cream is delicious,’ and then keep on trucking along,” I explain. “Yoga won’t do shit for that.”
“Yeah, my bad,” Cohen agrees. “Sorry you dropped your ice cream, but mine was so sweet, man. I’m already crazy for it. My hands are sticky and my face is all messy and I’m dying for another taste, you know?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yeah, I should get home and get showered so I don’t smell like seaweed for my class. Are you opening the shop at the regular time?” Cohen hangs his towel around his shoulders.
“Yup, at nine.” I nod.
“Okay, I’ll be by after lunch to take over for ya. Go out there and catch some waves, man. It’ll help you forget all about the ice cream thing.” He nods at me like he’s giving me sage words or wisdom.
“Catch you around,” I answer.
Cohen disappears around the building and takes off. It takes longer than it should for me to stop searching for Joss and decide my friend is right. Just because she stood me up doesn’t mean I need to waste the entire morning. I’m here, aren’t I? In itself that makes me a lucky man.
The last gulp of coffee goes down the hatch and I plant the mug in the sand beside our shop. Grabbing my board, I make my way to the water’s edge, wading in up to my waist, when I hear my name. Joss stands on the beach; her dark hair is tied up in a long ponytail and she flips it over her shoulder.
My jaw tightens, every part of me stiffens up a bit, how could it not? The way her bikini hugs her curves, and all the places her bikini isn’t hugging, it’s absolute perfection. Unlike Pinocchio, I don’t need to worry about lies making my nose grow. If I don’t stop staring, other parts of me are going to show her exactly what makes me a real live guy.
I meet her on the sand. The ocean stretches out to tickle her toes and she looks down warily.
“You made it,” I murmur. “I wrote you off as a no-show.”
“Sorry, the hotel messed up my morning wake-up call.” She looks up at me and she looks a little nervous.
“Good things are worth waiting for,” I muse. A little smile tugs at her lips, easing away some of her uncertainty. “You ready to give this a try?” I nod toward my board.
“Honestly?” Her voice trails up and she bites her lip. “I’m not so sure …”
“Why?” For a fraction of a second she looks intimidated. Maybe even a little scared. Then, as quickly as it flashed over her hazel eyes, it disappears. She tilts her head and looks up at me in a way that makes me want to say “fuck surfing” because all I want to do is let my lips soothe whatever insecurities she’s got bubbling up inside—and not by chatting about it.
Joss breathes out like she’s releasing a year’s worth of tension. She claps her hands together. “Nope, I’m not going to play the ‘what if game’ today.”
“What’s the ‘what if game’?”
“You know.” She squints as the first slivers of sun begin to crack the twilight. “What if I fall? What if I get eaten by a shark? What if I smash my teeth out? What if I drown?” As she goes through the list she holds out her fingers, counting off the endless possibilities. “But, I promised myself if I took this trip I wouldn’t hold back. I’m trying to grab life by the balls, you know? Get in there instead of pussyfooting around. So, how do I do this?”
“What, grab life’s junk?”
“No.” She laughs. “Are you gonna help me pick a board, or should I wear some water wings and a helmet, or …”
Now I’m laughing. “Toddlers don’t even wear those things.” I shake my head. “No, you’re good how you are. I’ll show you everything you need to know on my board.” I hold it up.
“Yeah?” She looks skeptical. “All right, if you say so.” She breathes in deep. Like she’s been doing poses in one of Cohen’s classes or something. “If I’m on your board, where are you gonna be?” Her eyebrows cinch up and she searches my face for an answer.
“I’ll be right there with you. Behind you. You’ll feel my body against yours the entire time,” my voice deepens. Even in the low light, the deep flush that rushes over her cheeks is hard to miss.
Joss scans the ocean, then the board and, finally, her eyes rest on me. Clearly, she’s weighing it all out. Suddenly, her eyes flicker with determination and something else.
“Okay,” she finally answers. “Let’s do this.”
11
Joss
My foot plunges into the crashing surf and the cold water shocks my skin to life. The hotel screwed me over on my wake-up call and left me ridiculously rushed. At the law firm, everyone had a bunch of jokes about me and my coffee. Rick, my assistant, would warn people not to speak to me until I’d downed my third cup.
One time, our office ran out and he used those wet floor signs to b
arricade off my office. He printed off a warning and taped it on the front saying: “Caution! No coffee. Please do not make direct eye contact and back away slowly!” It was sort of a joke and sort of fair warning. Today, I barely had time to brush my teeth, let alone make a steaming mug of liquid life force.
Ugh, the firm. That’s something I haven’t even come close to figuring out. How am I supposed to go back there? How am I supposed to work in the same space as the man who decided at the last second I wasn’t good enough to be his wife? Obviously, I need to figure this shit out sooner than later, but not now. Decisions are difficult enough. No coffee makes them fucking impossible.
I know it’s Hawaii, but the sun isn’t out yet and the water sends a rush over me, waking me up quicker than the strongest espresso I’ve ever had. And that’s saying something. Finn stops me, curling his fingers around my hand and pulls me back to the wet sand.
“Not so fast, have you ever been on a board before?” His long, dark hair flows down over his thick shoulders, some of it twists around the whiskers of his thick beard.
I shake my head from side to side, knowing I can’t trust my voice right now.
Finn’s intense gray eyes pull me in, they keep me staring. They remind me of clouds on a hot summer day. The ones I’d stare up at from my parent’s back porch, in awe at their power, as they drove white arcs of crazy lightning across the sky.
He towers over me, his broad shoulders giving way to thick, sculpted arms, like he could be the god of thunder. No, that’s not right. Thunder is nothing more than a big boom. It’s loud but it’s not really powerful. Finn has an intensity, a force. If he was a god, and when I look at him, I’ve gotta wonder if he isn’t some kind of immortal, he’d definitely be the god of lightning, not thunder. My thoughts turn from being tossed around in ocean waves to being tossed around his bed.
“All right, let me show you some basics.” He lays his board on the sand and slides down on top of it, easing his way to the back. “Here, this spot is for you.” He taps the open space at the front of the board.
“You want me to lie down?”
“Yep, you gotta learn to pop up. It’s the most important part of surfing.” He waits expectantly.
Crouching down on the wet sand, I shimmy onto the front of the board. Finn’s breath is warm on the back of my legs. I want to feel it on the inside of my thighs. Just like I felt Cohen’s last night. I smirk, look at me, getting my pussy eaten by one hot guy and then trying to figure out how to get another hot guy to do the same thing the next day. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my thighs at the same time as the image of both of them taking turns with me, tasting me, easing their tongues into me and worshipping me overtakes my imagination.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“You okay?” Finn asks.
“Never better.” I smile.
“Good, you look comfortable. Now imagine a wave is rolling in behind us. When I call out, we’re gonna paddle as fast as we can, like this.” I watch over my shoulder as he scoops a bit of sand into each of his huge hands. I pretend to do the same thing and he nods at me. “Then, when I say ‘pop up’ you’ll push yourself up to your knee and then stand up straight on the front of the board, got it?”
“Got it.”
“Pop up,” he calls out.
“What, like right now?”
“Yep.”
“Uh, like this?” I manage to get my feet under me and almost feel like a real surfer, except I’m playing pretend in the sand instead of out in the water.
“Exactly.” His voice is a low rumble in my ear. I didn’t even feel him stand up behind me, but he’s right there. My entire body tingles, it turns out I didn’t need coffee or cold water to wake me up this morning, this is enough. More than enough.
We practice the move a few more times until I can do it easily. At least on land. Still, I must be doing well because Finn hops off the board on our last go and picks me up off it, placing me on the beach. He grabs his board and guides me into the shallow water. Luckily, the sun is starting to rise up in the sky now and throw a little heat our way. Although, as soon as we’re up to our waists in water, a rush of heat buzzes through me when Finn presses his body next to mine. He lifts me up onto the board and climbs on behind me.
“You ready?” he calls out behind me.
“Ready!” I yell back.
“Then get ready, annnnd, paddle!” he roars louder than the waves.
My arms spring into action, cutting through the water like oars on a canoe. Although, there’s no way I’m the one pushing us forward this fast. That’s all Finn.
“Pop up!” His voice is clear over the rushing water.
I try, but only manage to get to my knee. I’m stuck. I don’t have the balance or the core strength to get fully up. Instead I’m doing some kind of Elvis Presley impersonation, wildly swinging my arms in circles as I struggle to get my feet under me. Suddenly, I’m lifted from the board and plopped down. Finn’s arms surround me; he’s pressed in tight. The wild force I felt in him earlier is radiating out around me, pulling me even closer.
“I got you.” His voice is in my ear. Any worries twisting around inside me about looking stupid or being stuck, they melt away. This is easily one of the most spectacular moments of my life. Easing back against him, I relax as we watch golden ribbons of light flicker across the sky.
Too quickly, the moment is over. Finn’s board is rushing toward the sand. “You can hop right off the end.” He points to the beach. So, I do. I jump right off the front and run out in front of his board onto the sand, feeling like this is as close to walking on water as I will ever know. Finn does the same thing and he skims his surfboard up out of the white foam licking the shoreline.
“Well, what did you think?” He smiles at me and I am grinning like crazy. I can’t help it. It was like nothing I’ve never felt before. Like it woke up some part of my soul that’s been blissfully sleeping through my entire life.
“Let’s go again.” I’m all breathy and excited. “But this time, let’s go on a bigger wave.”
“A bigger wave? I don’t think you’re ready yet.” He frowns, his eyes suddenly serious.
“A little farther, please?” I tilt my chin, searching his face. Tension eases from his muscles and he gives a quick little nod. I jump up and down, clapping and squealing, way too happy with his agreement.
“A little farther,” he murmurs in agreement.
“Yep, only a little.” I tug on his hand and try to drag him back into the ocean. I need more. More of the ocean waves rolling me into the shore. And a whole hell of a lot more of Finn.
12
Joss
Behind me on the board, Finn’s arms cut through the deep water as we make our way out further. I’m sure I’m not much help. I hit the gym a few times a week, but I don’t think I’m making much difference even though I’m paddling with everything I’ve got. I’d love to believe I’m some kind of natural at this, but Finn is the one making it happen.
Blair would never do anything like this. When we planned our honeymoon, it was a struggle to get him to agree to anything but drinking and lazing around the beach. I was like, how many times in my life am I going to get to spend ten days in Hawaii? I wanted to do everything. From the most tourist-trap events to things like this. He’s many things: practical, smart with money, reliable …
Wait, scratch the last one.
Sure, he was reliable. Up until he left me pacing in an eight-hundred-dollar dress, with my professional makeup smeared under my eyes like a raccoon. Until it was so clear he stood me up the pastor pulled me aside gently offering to counsel me, if I wanted. It was another thirty minutes for the shock to wear off and my brain to realize what was happening. That’s when I threw my bouquet against the wall, collapsing into a sobbing pile of confusion on the floor. Yeah, he was reliable until then.
Things he wasn’t: fun, spontaneous, free.
A frigid wave breaks over us, driving down a ton of water. My fingers c
url around the edge of the board, helping me cling onto it. The wet cold and the fear of being washed off the board both rudely jolt me back into the moment.
Lifting my head, water drips down off my hair and over my eyes. Through the blur I manage to see the pristine white sand, inviting me back to the land with open arms. The fear I’ve been carrying around, about looking stupid, about failing at life, about being unloveable, it morphs into something else. I clench my molars and blink the water out of my eyes, nodding at the beach like it whispered a secret to me. Hey, maybe it did because I’m feeling something new in my belly. A focus. A determination. And maybe even a little bit of swagger.
You know what? Fuck Blair.
I refuse to spend another second sifting through the sad details of my imploded life. All I care about right now is riding a wave. On literally and symbolically getting my feet underneath me. Life isn’t fair. I didn’t need to be stood up on my wedding day to figure that shit out. But it sure as hell was a stinging reminder. These waves aren’t trying to help me out. I need to tame them. I need to find my balance, to find my power, and ride one of these growing walls of water into the shore and prove to myself I can.
“Ready?” Finn yells over the ocean noise.
Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. There’s only one way to find out.
Through grit teeth I answer, “Ready.”
The board rolls with the waves as the water whooshes louder behind us. Excitement builds inside me. Every muscle is tense with anticipation. Each of my hands are cupped tight, dangling over the sides, ready to scoop the ocean fast.
“It’s coming,” Finn warns me. “Annnnd, paddle. Go-go-go!” he barks out the orders.
The surfboard surges and I beat the water like it owes me money. Finn’s telling me to keep going even when my biceps start to ache, so I do. I don’t care if it hurts, I’m not getting off this board until I’ve done this. Unlike fucking Blair, I know how to commit.
Honeymoon Rebound Page 6