Waxing His Board (Filthy Dirty Summer)

I wasn’t surprised she was trying to buoy my spirits. After my dad, Delta was my biggest cheerleader. “It’s not the meeting. I’m feeling pretty chill about that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say wrong, exactly,” I drawled. A delicious shiver ran down my spine as I thought about the flirtatious gleam in Wilder’s green eyes. “It’s just that I bumped into someone unexpected at the beach.”

“Someone as in a guy?” she screeched. Her voice pitched so high that my ears rang, which was quite a feat, considering the top wasn’t on my Jeep.

“Not just any guy. It was Wilder Abrams.”

“Holy crap,” she breathed. “You met your surfing idol? Please tell me that you were wearing a killer string bikini, and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

I laughed softly and shook my head. “Have you ever seen me in a string bikini?”

“No.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Much to my chagrin, you’ve never listened to me any of the times I’ve tried to talk you into buying one.”

“They’re not exactly practical for me,” I reminded her.

“That’s what you always say, but I bet if you’d been wearing one today, you’d be too busy making out with the hot guy of your dreams to call me.”

“Hey, my favorite pair of boy shorts didn’t stop him from asking me out.” I was too focused on defending my style choice to stop to think about how she was going to react to that tidbit of news.

“Hold the eff up,” she shrieked. “Why in the heck are you on the phone with me and not kissing his gorgeous face off?”

I strummed my fingers against my steering wheel, wondering the same thing as I second-guessed my decision. “I turned him down on his offer to take me out to dinner.”

“I don’t get it. Why in the world would you do something silly like that?” she cried. “You’ve compared every guy you’ve met to him since I’ve known you. It’s the only reason you’ve been dateless when you’re drop-dead gorgeous, talented, and sweet. I’ve seen you turn down a dozen guys who’ve asked you out in the past few months alone, and you’ve barely been home since you made it onto the Challenger Series.”

“He’s on my vision board,” I reminded her. “And if my goal to take down his record wouldn’t make things awkward enough, we’re both being considered for the same product endorsement from what my dad heard. That makes us rivals for more than the same waves. Signing a deal before I make it to the WCT would be huge for me.”

“I totally hear what you’re saying and get why you’d think it would be better not to give in to your massive desire for the dude. But c’mon, Chloe. Ignore all that and channel your usual optimism,” she urged. “Dating the only guy who’s ever revved your engine could be huge for you on the personal front, and that’s a heck of a lot more important than professional.”

“It was just a dinner invitation. There’s no saying anything else would’ve come of it.” I bit my bottom lip as I considered her advice. “Although, he did ask me if I wanted to go grab a bubble tea when I turned him down.”

“The guy you’ve been fantasizing about asked you to get the disgusting milk tea that you love, and you still said no? I think you’ve gotten way too much sun lately. All of the heat has obviously fried your brain, and you’re not thinking clearly anymore. So it’s my job as your best friend to step in and tell you…if you see Wilder Abrams again, you need to jump at the chance the universe is giving you, girl. Save a horse and ride that hot surfer.”

3

Wilder

“You’re late,” Gina snipped at me as I exited my sapphire blue Bentley EXP 12 Speed 6e. “Doesn’t this thing go insanely fast?” She pointed at the car and tapped the toe of one ridiculously high-heeled shoe on the asphalt.

I laughed as I rolled my eyes and shut my door, then locked it before answering. “Just because I like that this beauty can go top speed doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to actually try it.” To be clear, I was less than five minutes late for this impromptu meeting.

Gina sighed and smoothed a hand over her perfectly slicked-back honey-brown ponytail. “Smart. Wouldn’t want you screwing with my moneymaker anyway. But you could at least pretend to care enough to try to be on time.” Then she spun around and clickety-clacked her heels up the sidewalk.

Grinning, I followed her like a good little nephew. Gina was my dad’s baby sister, but she was only six years older than me. Wrenley and I had worshiped the ground she walked on when we were younger, especially when she took us out for ice cream. When I began to compete, she’d somehow fallen into the role of PR person—probably because she could be a pit bull when she wanted. Eventually, she’d become my official agent, then opened up an office and took on more clients. She was highly sought after now, and I was so fucking proud of her.