by D. V. EEDEN
Removing my yoga pants and sports bra, I pull out my wet suit from my wardrobe and slide into the tight fabric. I googled and found out that I could hire a surfboard just down the beach, which is perfect because I wasn’t able to bring my surfboard with me from across the globe. I throw on a clean pair of yoga pants and a hoodie over my wetsuit along with some trainers, before tying my hair up in a messy bun on the top of my head.
I order myself an Uber which meets me out front in the courtyard, taking me all the way into Stonewall. The driver drops me off directly in the parking lot where Miles parked for our first date, the memory making me smile of that time in the ocean. I stand by the wooden beams along the side, scanning my eyes over to where the beach hut is to hire the surf boards. It looks like I’m not the only one who decided to surf, the waves are really on our side today. I stroll towards the beach hut, noticing how busy the beach front actually is. Even though its winter, people are still walking around buying ice cream and savouring the pleasant day. The smiles on their faces say it all. I’ve always said living by a beach is the way forward. Breathing in that ocean air everyday just makes you feel so… alive.
Clearing my throat, I try to get the attention of the gentleman who’s back is turned.
“Hey, can I hire a surfboard please?’”
The burly man turns around, exposing his sun-kissed blonde hair, the wavy locks resting on his shoulders whilst the top is tied up in a top knot. He looks like a Viking beast. His skin is so tanned, you can tell he practically lives outside in the sun. I give him a slight smile, a blush tinting my cheeks, and he arches his blonde eyebrow in disbelief.
“Are you sure?” His blue sapphire eyes narrow as he stares at me.
“Do you even know how to surf?”
He leans in, placing both forearms on the counter and clasping his hands together, his head cocking to the side. Is this guy for real? Now, because I’m a girl, I can’t surf.
“I’ll have you know, even though it isn’t your business, I can surf just fine.”
I cock my hip out, crossing my arms across my chest and standing my ground. The Thor look-alike stares at me blankly before standing himself upright. He shakes his head and turns towards the surf boards all placed on shelves, picking one out for me. He chooses the brightest pink one there is, in fact it’s the brightest one I have ever seen.
“Wow, so because I’m a girl you think I should have bright pink?” I scoff, my eyebrows raised. I grab the board from him anyway, pushing it into the sand to stand upright. A grin replaces the frown he had on his beautiful chiselled face whilst I start taking off my yoga pants, trainers, and hoodie. I’ll show this fucker. Grinning at him, I place my discarded clothes and bag on the counter.
“I’ll let you look after my belongings,” I tease, grabbing the pink monstrosity and making my way to the blue and white waves. Yeah, I’ll show that fucker. Sexist prick.
Laying down flat on the board, I paddle out far enough to where the other surfers are sitting, waiting for the waves to hit. The ocean here is completely different to South African waters, I mean, before, I always had to be wary of great white sharks, but thankfully I was always okay. At least the ocean here is a lot safer, although the waves aren’t as big, but that doesn’t matter. The first wave approaches and I get ready to stand on the board, which is attached to my foot by a leg rope. The water is freezing cold, nipping at the visible skin on my hands and feet, but the good thing about my wetsuit is that it retains heat, so I’m warm enough without freezing to death.
As I stand on my board, I spot the Viking standing outside of the beach hut, leaning his shoulder against the wood, his arms crossed over his chest as his feet are crossed at the ankles. His gaze follows me as I take the waves, along with the other surfers. I’m the only one in this goddamn ocean with a colourful board, the dick. I think he did it so that I would be easy to spot. The other surfers watch me as well, clearly surprised by a girl surfing in their waters.
I take out my last wave before I go back to the beach to get a drink of water, my muscles aching like crazy. It doesn’t help that I pushed myself dancing this morning and now I’m surfing. My muscles are screaming at me to stop and just relax but I can’t. I don’t know how to. Walking on the wet sand and holding the bright pink board under my arm, I approach the sexist pig from earlier, who’s also looking after my stuff. I lean the board against the beach hut, taking my hair out from the bun and letting it fall gracefully around my face. Then I unzip my wetsuit just enough that my cleavage is on show.
The egotistical Viking -whose name I don’t yet know - doesn’t move from his spot. His lips curl into an arrogant, condescending smile as he takes in my now on show cleavage. He picks up the pink board, tucking it under his arm as he takes it back into the hut, placing it back on the shelf. For once a smirk creeps up on my face, an overwhelming feeling of arrogance which I haven’t felt in a while. I take a sip of my water, the satisfaction of cold water relinquishing my thirst.
Picking up my clothes and bag from the counter, I walk back over onto the beach, perching myself on the golden sand, preparing for the early sunset. I place my belongings next to me and lean myself back, resting on my forearms. I better let myself dry for a while before I get an Uber to pick me up. I don’t think they would be pleased if I climbed into their car and soaked the seats.
As I’m watching the lavish golden sun descend and the shadows of the surfers in the water, a figure approaches me. His wet blonde hair is now curled, emphasizing his sharp features as he holds a black board under his arm. Hands rake through his hair, causing the water to drip onto his high cheekbones, the wetsuit straining against his muscles. A sinful grin takes over his face as he notices me resting on the golden grains of sand. My breath hitches, remembering when he had a girl wrapped around his waist, the moans still playing in my mind.
“Well, who do we have here?” Charles teases.
Oh great, I can’t go anywhere without bumping into one of the fucking pricks.
And now I know this particular fucker also likes to surf.
I don’t acknowledge or respond to Charles, removing my eyes from his muscular form to keep staring at the ocean and the other surfers. Hopefully, he will leave me alone.
“Nice surf,” he winks and saunters off without another word.
Thank god.
Just when I think I’m getting time to myself; the sexist Viking guy sits next to me on the sand. I turn my gaze over to him, my hair blowing in my face with the slight breeze.
“I must say, I’m lost for words… I’m impressed,” he admits.
Smiling, I tuck my hair behind my ear then turn my gaze back towards the ocean. “Well by the looks of the other guys here, you don’t have a lot of woman surfers?”
“You’re right we don’t, like at all. So, I truly was impressed when I saw you out there,” he confesses, and my ego keeps building. We both sit there in silence, admiring the view of the early winter sunset. The guy stands, holding out his hand towards me. “By the way, I’m Zach. How about we move over to the bonfire over there and get you warmed up?”
Taking up the offer, I give him my hand, feeling his rough hands in mine as he hauls me up. I wipe the sand off from my ass and pick up my stuff before we walk over to the bonfire. “I’m Adelaide, but I suppose you can call me Ade,” I wink.
We walk over to the bonfire where someone’s car is parked on the edge, blaring pop music and with cooler boxes placed in the boot. It also seems to be where Charles is, with girls surrounding him, all giggling to whatever he just said. Zach leads me to the beach chairs where I take a seat, savouring the warm feeling that is emitting from the fire, the heat prickling my cold and exposed skin. I don’t plan on putting my clothes back on until my wetsuit is reasonably dry.
Zach offers to get me a drink from the cooler box, which he assures me is his friend’s and that they won’t mind, so I accept. I look around the bonfire, a little anxious as Charles eyes never stray from mine. He looks in his element
, the demon that he is by the fire. I can see the flames dancing in his dark eyes as he flirts with another girl. She will probably also end up around his waist at some point this evening.
Oh god, why am I thinking about that?
If this is Zach’s friend’s little party, does that mean he’s friends with Charles?
Hopefully, Zach doesn’t have the same trait of being a cunt like Charles.
Zach approaches, handing over a can of cold beer. “I am guessing you know Charles Kensington”’ he asks, taking a seat in the unoccupied chair next to me. I open the can straight away and take a massive gulp. Having to put up with Charles’ presence means that I need to drink.
“Yeah, we attend Darlington Academy together,” I roll my eyes without meaning to and take another big gulp of beer.
Zach raises his eyebrow, shaking his head in displeasure. “Oh, you’re one of them, are you?” He’s taking smaller sips of his beer, clearly savouring it.
“What do you mean by ‘one of them’?” I emphasize, but I know exactly what he means. He’s asking me if I’m a stuck-up brat asshole like the others. “I might attend that academy, but that doesn’t mean I’m anything like those assholes,” I tell him, and Zach roars with laughter in response. Hearing him laugh is like a breath of fresh air, it sounds real and rough. It matches his hard Viking persona.
“I’m guessing you are friends with his royal douchness?” I ask, positioning my body so that I’m looking at him clearly, waiting for him to answer. He doesn’t stop laughing at my serious facial expression and takes a sip of beer before answering me.
“Fuck no, he’s a dick. He just surfs here a lot and we have the same circle of friends,” he clarifies.
Thank god.
I let out a big breath, my anxiety starting to fade away as I start to feel comfortable with Zach. We end up chatting for most of the night, getting to know each other, and I must admit, it’s lovely getting to know someone who is normal like me. We have similar interests and the most obvious one is surfing.
‘’So, tell me about the beach hut? How did that come about?’’ I ask Zach, intrigued.
‘’Well, I love surfing and this is a great location for tourists and locals to come down and surf but a few years ago they stopped the surfing lessons, so I thought why not’’ he starts, then takes a sip of his beer and I watch the orange flame from the bonfire dance around his chiselled features. ‘’I guess I also saw it as creating a hobby for the kids and adults around here, you know?’’ he adds.
‘’That is amazing. I think it’s great that you could do it’’ I smile as my cheeks flush from admiration for this guy.
“I have noticed that Charles keeps staring at you. Literally the whole night, he hasn’t stopped,” Zach laughs, but I doubt that’s true. “Want to piss him off?” Zach questions, a mischievous grin dancing on his face and I have no idea what he means. Me being here probably makes Charles angry enough. When I catch him looking over at us, I can see the hatred and disgust in his eyes, his face turned into a frown, a girl hanging herself on his arm.
“What did you have in mind?” I quickly turn my gaze to Zach and that’s when his big, rough hands grab my face, pulling my lips to his. His tongue slips past my lips, kissing me passionately and raw. His hand slides across to the back of my neck, holding me in place as my body goes numb.
I’m really enjoying this kiss, like, way too much.
Zach lets go, chuckling against my lips, making me ache for more. My skin tingles with the rush that goes through me, and the pit of my stomach fills with heat. I haven’t felt like this before with a guy, not even Miles. The way Zach kisses is captivating, enthralling and in control, almost as if he’s claiming me in front of the others.
Oh my god.
We both smile at each other, before looking around to see Charles has stormed off, clearly furious at us. We both high-five each other. I want to do more than high five this man. We both stand up from the beach chairs and Zach walks me over to the parking lot where I’m meeting my Uber. He did offer to drive me back to the academy, but he doesn’t believe in drunk driving and I’m grateful he won’t put me in that position. Although, I realize when Royce drove me to the academy, he had had a lot to drink.
Now I feel guilty.
“Thanks for a surprisingly fun evening. I didn’t think I’d be out this late,” I joke and Zach nods, agreeing. I don’t think he expected it either, especially after his arrogant and sexist persona to begin with. I think I’ll let that pass.
‘’Can I have your number?’’ Zach blurts out as I open the passenger door of the Uber and I turn around to face him, my cheeks feeling flushed as the guilt passes through me.
‘’I already told you that I am currently seeing someone right now.’’ I raise my eyebrow in question, leaning my hand on the car door as Zach shifts from one foot to the other.
The corner of Zach’s lips curls up into a coy smile before he speaks. ‘’I know, this is purely platonic. It’s just for when you want to come down and surf that’s all’’. Giving in, we swap numbers before I get into the Uber that takes me back to the academy, and I can’t help but think that I would love to see Zach again. Even if it’s platonic.
I will most definitely be coming back to surf with Zach
Sitting in my Business Ethics class, I keep thinking about the weekend and Zach. How he’s imprinted on my mind and that kiss… I can’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I do, the heat in my core rises and a pool of desire fills my knickers. He’s left such a mark on me and I can’t wait to have an excuse to see him again. I haven’t heard from Miles at all since he stood me up yesterday, not even a text to let me know he’s okay.
I complete my assignment in class and sit patiently, playing with my pen as Blake is still working on his. I try and face the front of the room, but I end up doodling loads of little hearts on my notepad in front of me, careful not to write Zach’s name.
I am seriously schoolgirl crushing right now.
Today was the first time in a while that I decided to put on some make-up. My bruises have gone, and my nose isn’t swollen anymore from the battering I suffered. Even though the outside of me has healed, the inside is still screaming in pain. I still have a long way to go with putting weight on my body, trying not to look like a skeleton but I am excited for our girls weekend of pampering soon.
Blake finishes his assignment and leans back in his chair, bringing his arms up so they are resting behind his head. His blazer is neatly hung up on the back of his chair. I can smell his scent of vanilla and oakwood with a hint of cloves, and if he weren’t such a dick, it would be addicting. I take a sly glance to the side, watching as he flexes his arms above his head, stretching the muscular biceps. The button up shirt strains against his sporty, lean frame. I scan my eyes lower, peaking at the slight skin visible between his slacks and where the shirt has risen. My breath quickens at the sight of this demonic man. How can he look so perfect yet be so devilish and cruel? I think about what it would feel like if my hands were to brush along his tanned, toned body; feeling every bump on his torso knowing full well it will burn.
I shake the thought from my mind, giving myself a mental slap and reminding myself that he’s a dick. I shouldn’t think about or have any sexual tendencies towards this asshole.
Maybe I can tame him?
No, no. Focus Ade.
When the bell rings to signal class is over, I make my way over to the library where I’m meeting Hugo for my tutoring sessions. Why the hell can’t some other tutor become available so that I can get away from these guys? I slide into a seat at our usual table, pulling out my laptop containing all the assignments that I need help with, and plug in my earphones until he gets here. He gets really moody when I listen to my music. Always says what I’m listening to is so heavy and angry. Well, it’s better than listening to his fucking voice.
I listen to some music which I haven’t listened to in a while and start on my assignments, tapping my foot to the beat. W
ithout realizing, I end up singing the words to one of the songs, a little louder than I should. Hugo takes a seat across from me before ripping out my earphones.
“Do you have to rip them out every single time?” I wince, my ears stinging from where he pulled them so hard. He is so strict, and I wouldn’t be surprised If he wanted to become a teacher or even better, a prison guard. He would do well with that.
“You know how I feel about you listening to music while you are supposed to be studying. Plus, I don’t want you to fucking sing,” he hisses.
I mock him by copying his words, which lands me a death glare. I take the warning from him and pack my earphones away, but I still hum my tunes. Hugo sighs.
“Well done by the way, on your Business Ethics paper.”
My eyes go wide at the fact he just said something nice, and actually praised me on my work. There is a god. He shows me the paper which I completed earlier – I’m still baffled by how he gets them so quick – and in red is a big letter A. I can’t contain my squeal, so I let it out. Hugo winces as he hands me my paper, which I might just frame. Hopefully, father will be proud of me.
I mentally give myself a fist bump, knowing Hugo would never do that.
We carry on with whatever Hugo gets me to do and I’m still humming, happy with my grade. Hugo keeps looking up at me from his paper, his jaw ticking with annoyance and I couldn’t care less. If I could, I would stand on the library tables and dance, that’s how ecstatic I am.
Eventually he leans back in his chair, dropping the pen to fold his arms across his taut chest, emerald green eyes narrowed as he bites his lip. A frown takes over his face. “How are you so happy after everything we’ve done to you?”