Traffic whizzed by, neon lights from the diner across the street cast a garish orange glow that somehow fit the manic pulse of the night. A party of friends spilled onto the sidewalk, hooting uproariously. A couple wove between us, holding hands as they grinned at each other. I was aware of everything and everyone around us but oblivious at the same time.
I didn’t understand this connection, yet I had no desire to fight it. I wasn’t nervous or suspicious. I welcomed the distraction from worrying about money and competitions. My focus tended to turn into an unhealthy single-mindedness when I was close to achieving a goal. I was famous for ditching parties or leaving a bar early to work on a newly commissioned board. The sooner I finished, the sooner I got paid, right?
Tonight, my body was on fire, but my mind was oddly serene. The way I saw it, whatever was going to happen, would happen. And I was ready to go along for the ride.
3
Luca
Have I mentioned that I hated waking up early? Yet not only did I arrive on time the following morning, I had ten minutes to spare. That, my friends, was a testament to my curiosity.
I had no idea what the fuck had happened last night. One minute, I was enjoying a drink with some friends and the next, my back was against the wall and my tongue was down the sexy surfer’s throat. The same guy I’d kissed…and yes, puked in front of a couple of weeks ago. It was a startling turn of events for sure.
And somehow, it had led me to the one stretch of beach I’d sworn to avoid for the rest of my life.
For a fucking surf lesson.
Of course, I wasn’t really here for the lesson. I was here for answers. Or maybe I just needed reassurance that I hadn’t dreamed the whole episode.
I found a prime parking spot on Ocean Street and fed quarters into the meter while gazing out at the pristine sand and the sparkling Pacific in the distance. A few joggers and power walkers dotted the boardwalk. I was surprised there weren’t more people out and about, enjoying what promised to be a beautiful September day with mild temps and plenty of sunshine.
I lifted my face to the sky as I waited at the light, then refocused to study the appropriately named The Sand and Surf Shop across the street. The blue-stucco exterior had a kitschy retro vibe with old-school signage hanging from a post above the entrance and a life-sized cutout of a cartoon dude astride a red-and-yellow striped surfboard circa-1950 greeting customers at the door. It was touristy but cool at the same time.
A bell chimed when I pushed the door open a minute later, and a pretty blonde with wild curly hair glanced up. She hung a wetsuit on a peg on the wall before greeting me with a winning smile.
“Good morning. Can I help you?”
I pulled my sunglasses off and nodded. “Yeah, I have a lesson with Cal.”
She frowned. “Cal? Are you sure? I don’t think he’s working today, but—”
“Hey, there.” Cal popped his head around a corner and waved. “He’s with me, Sarah. Gimme a minute. I’ll be right there. Or…you can come upstairs.”
“Um…okay.” When he disappeared, I narrowed my gaze and addressed the girl, who looked to be about my age. “Where am I going exactly?”
She gestured toward a narrow doorway beside the reception desk. “The stairs are through there. I’m Sarah, by the way.”
“I’m Luca.”
Her smile widened. “I know. You’re in my macro econ class. I try to sit on the side of the room and slouch in my chair as much as possible. If the professor calls on me to ask any tough questions, I’m doomed. In fact, I’m not sure how I’m going to handle the semester.”
“You’ll do fine. What’s your major?” I asked conversationally.
“Econ. See? I told you I’m doomed.”
I chuckled. “I’m a business major. So far, I’m following along okay, but I reserve the right to join you on the side if necessary.”
“Deal. Nice to meet you, Luca.”
“You too.”
I waved and headed into the adjacent area, noting the racks of surfboards and miscellaneous beachy equipment on my way to the staircase. Swim trunks, snorkel gear, towels, paddle ball sets…apparently, this shop rented or sold a little bit of everything. I paused on the landing and knocked on the open door before peeking inside. And nearly swallowing my tongue at the sight of Cal wiggling his ass into his wetsuit.
Fuck, he was hot. Toned, tanned, and fit. He stood in the middle of the small living room, bathed in sunlight streaming through the picture window next to a leather sofa. Shadows highlighted the contoured grooves of his muscled back and broad shoulders. He could have been posing for a painting or a marble statue depicting the modern-day ideal of a god. Except for the wiggling part.