Out in the Surf (Out in College 9)

“Sure, but you must be busy too.”

Luca inhaled deeply and stared out to sea. “Not busy enough. I’m taking one class that counts toward my major. The rest are electives…Photography, History of the Beatles, and Chess 101. It’s a blast. If I’d known how awesome SoCal was, I would’ve fucked up my Achilles my freshman year so I could hang out at the beach and party with the cool kids sooner.”

“You hate it here,” I deadpanned.

“Nah, I like it just fine. I’ve met some good people.” Luca smiled, then copied my earlier tentative touch, rubbing his thumb at the juncture behind my ear. “But partying like a rock star got old fast and the truth is…I miss hockey. A lot. I miss things about it that surprise me too…like waking up early for practice, running drills, and geez…having teammates. There was this D-man, Mark Jennowski, on my team. The guy was a prick. He was obnoxious, full of himself, and so sure he was always right, even after he was proved wrong. Get this…he had a theory that hair and nails grow after death.”

I chuckled. “Really?”

“Yep. He’d waltz into the locker room every other day spouting some false claim. Everyone would groan and try to be the first to debunk his theories. We’d have these mad Google forums where we’d take turns listing facts.”

“Like what?”

“Uh…let me think.” He tapped his temple and squinted. “Baby flamingos are born gray, not pink. Elephants suck on their trunks for comfort, like human babies suck on their thumbs. Ooh! Get this one. All clownfish are born male.”

“No way.”

“Way,” he countered with a laugh. “Do not ask me in-depth questions about clownfish. I know they’re orange, but that’s it. I ceased to care after I schooled Jennowski’s ass.”

I grinned, then sipped my coffee. “Do you stay in contact with your old teammates?”

“A little, but they’re busy with school and practice.” Luca’s voice lowered and the note of misery in his voice was hard to miss when he continued, “Our season started this week.”

I put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in an awkward side hug. I’d become emboldened by my earlier mini PDA. That had to be why I didn’t think twice about kissing his cheek.

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

Luca sighed. “Hmm. You know, if I hadn’t met you, I think I’d be really homesick.”

“Yeah?” I smiled, inordinately pleased with the compliment.

“You’ve kept me centered. I wake up early and learn something new almost every day. And I’m a huge fan of the bonus sexy time. But this is a little more than sex for me. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell you I’m in love with you or anything gross.” Luca rolled his eyes, chuckling when I pinched his earlobe. “I’m just trying to tell you…that I’ve been paying attention, Cal. You’re confident, disciplined, and patient as fuck. And you’re stretched thin. If I can help you, let me. Please.”

His speech moved me. I hadn’t expected it, and I wasn’t sure how to respond at first. I was used to doing things that mattered to me on my own. I didn’t think twice about it. Surfing taught me how to rely on myself and trust my instincts. It was something I could do with friends, but ultimately, surfing was an individual sport. And I liked being alone.

It was a good thing too because other than Luca, I didn’t hang out with anyone. I bumped into people and temporarily shared their atmosphere. Jay, Sarah, Rex, my parents…if I remembered correctly, my ex’s number one complaint about me was that I did “alone” too well.

Luca didn’t. He needed more on his plate and I needed less.

I didn’t want to mess with a good thing, though.

“What if you get sick of me? Making surfboards is a business for me. I’m kind of a perfectionist when it comes to my work.”

Luca’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “I’m not suggesting you have me do anything that requires mad skills. But you’ve given me free lessons for weeks now. Why not let me pay you back somehow? And let me warn you, if you make one crack about paying for your services with BJs and hand jobs, I’m gonna be mad.”

I barked a laugh. “You mean I got your dick for free?”

“You haven’t really had my dick yet, baby,” he drawled.

I set my half-empty cup on the bench and bugged my eyes out. “We’re talking about anal, huh? Are you…I mean, do you like to be—how would this work?”

“My dick in your ass or yours in mine.” He lifted his brows as he raised his cup in a toast.

I shushed him, waiting until a man walking a Great Dane passed by to reply. “Do you have a preference?”

His eyes twinkled merrily. “Not really. You?”

“Well, since I’ve never done…that…before, I’m probably going to want to be on top,” I whispered. “I mean…if we ever wanted to do that.”