Work Me Up

I lean down, so close that we’re sharing a breath of air, so she can feel my breath across her cheeks when I whisper my response. “As if you could resist me,” I say, so low and sure that I actually feel her shiver a little, thanks to her hand still resting over my chest. To emphasize the point, I catch her wrist, bring her hand to my face and spread her fingers with my own, right before I lay a soft, slow kiss in the center of her palm.

The trembling happens again. Her pupils dilate, in spite of the warm, bright sunshine beaming directly down on us. “I could if I wanted to,” she says, but even her voice isn’t steady. It quivers, giving away the telltale desire burning hot beneath those dark eyes of hers.

I can tell, because I feel the same desire. All the time, every second I’m around her. “But you don’t want to,” I reply, tilting my head, smirking just a little.

“No,” she admits, her tone breathy with surrender. Just the way I like it.

I lean forward and cup her chin. Tilt her face toward mine until our noses brush, our lips so close that I can practically taste her already, the way those sugar sweet lips of hers will be faintly coated with salt from the sea breeze… “Then I guess this means I win, Your Fineliness,” I whisper.

Those dark eyes narrow, right before she rolls them and, with obvious physical effort, takes a huge step back from me, striding away across the sand without so much as a kiss. “You are impossible,” she adds over her shoulder.

“Now you’re getting the idea.” I jog after her, keeping pace easily, in spite of the shifting sand underfoot. I’m used to the beach. I used to come here all the time when I was younger; I grew up a surf bum, before I started working in the garage. It’s funny. I didn’t even realize how long it had been since I’d seen the ocean until I came here today. Until she reminded me how much I love it here.

“What is it?”

When I look back over, I find Selena watching me now, her expression curious. “Hmm?”

“You looked like you were thinking about something,” she says. And I’m reminded of just how observant she is. I’m used to being the one who notices things about the girls I hook up with—not that I’ve hooked up with anyone in a long time, and certainly nobody in ages who I’ve felt as sudden a connection with and draw toward as I have with Selena. But still.

I’m not used to other people asking me questions. I’m used to being the questioner.

I squint out over the sea, which glints in the bright afternoon light, and ponder my response. “I used to come to the beach all the time,” I say slowly. “My mom worked a lot, so she’d leave me with my neighbors in the summers—they had a big family, about a dozen kids. Only thing they could afford to do with all those kids all day long was come down to the water. I taught myself how to surf on an old used surfboard they let me borrow. Then in high school, once I got old enough to take care of myself while Mom was working, I’d come down here solo. Some of the older surfers took me in, gave me tips… I was pretty decent at one point.” I run a hand through my hair, still studying the ocean.

“What made you stop?” Selena asks quietly.

I shrug. “I guess with all the work I had on at the shop, I just sort of… forgot to keep coming down here. Life gets in the way, you know?”

She lets out a small sigh. “Do I ever.”

And I squint at her, curious too. What in the world could life do to the daughter of one of the richest business magnates in the city, after all? She could buy her way out of just about any real problem that came her direction.

But then I think about the apartment she lives in. The way her father ordered her to help me fix up the car she damaged herself, in order to teach her a lesson. Maybe problems aren’t as easy to solve for her as I assume they are, just based on her family history.

Maybe life can be a bitch to anyone, regardless of their social class.

“What did you used to do for fun?” I ask. “Growing up.” Because what I really want to ask her is about what happened yesterday. What made her freak-out. But I also don’t want to shatter this moment of calm understanding between us. It feels so fragile and perfect right now, a moment I want to press like a flower inside a book and save for later.