Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)
A good set of waves rolls in. I paddle with the tide, getting enough speed to catch one of the larger ones. Bracing my hands under my chest, I pull my legs into a crouch and stand. As the wave grows larger, I’m able to expertly twist the board with my feet, skimming along the surface of the water as it curls behind me.
After an hour or so, I’m chilled and exhausted, but my mood is improved. Surfing always manages to help me cleanse my mind. I haul my board up the beach and drop onto the warm sand.
A shadow falls over my eyes. When I look up, I see a cute brunet in a pair of way too bright, floral-print, board shorts.
“Hi.” He smiles down at me. “You’re Gavin Walker.”
I grin back, running a hand through my stiff, salty hair. “Yes. Who are you?”
Before the guy can answer, Marcus plants himself next to me, crossing his arms and glaring at my admirer.
“Ummmm, I uh…” The guy stammers, tripping over his words. I don’t blame him. Marcus can make some pretty scary expressions.
“Ignore Marcus.”
He flicks his eyes to Marcus then back over to me. “Uh, I’m Sean. Sean O’Conner.”
“Irish, huh?” My gaze travels over his lightly freckled cheeks and bright hazel eyes. Then down his thin but very toned body. “Want to sit?”
Sean’s eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious?”
He’s cute. Too young, maybe twenty-three, but cute. “Sure,” I shrug. “Why not?”
Sean grins and drops to the sand next to me. Marcus is unamused. The large man grunts, but says nothing. I shoot him an annoyed look to which he doesn’t respond. No privacy. He’s not going to leave me alone to have a conversation.
“So, uh, where’s your boyfriend?” Sean glances around as if Mitch is ready to spring out and punch him for talking to me.
Oh how I wish.
I laugh and Sean’s cheeks turn red.
He smiles. “Sorry, can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I lean in close so Marcus can’t hear me. “If I didn’t have company,” my eyes flick over to my grumpy bodyguard, “I’d take you home in a heartbeat.”
Sean’s smile grows larger. “Seriously? What about the boyfriend?”
“Meh, he wanted space.” It’s the truth, sort of.
Sean looks shocked. “He’s an idiot.”
I pat his leg, noting the hard muscles beneath my hand. “You’re sweet.”
Marcus clears his throat. I roll my eyes. “Fine. I have to go before Marcus here has a coronary. It was nice talking to you, Sean.”
I get up and hold out a hand. Sean grasps it firmly, allowing me to pull him to his feet. Our chests bump briefly as he stumbles in the sand. Once we’re upright, I note that Sean is shorter than me. Several inches in fact. I usually like my men large, muscular, and intimidating, but I wouldn’t kick Sean out of bed.
He looks up at me with his big, hazel eyes and I nearly break down and invite him to my place. Then Marcus flexes or grunts or does something equally annoying, spurring me back to the present and sending Sean skittering back.
“So, it was nice meeting you, Sean.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice husky. “You too.”
Bitter at my situation, the high from surfing melts away leaving me raw and angry. I’m gay, I’m out, and I still can’t pick up a guy at the beach.
Fucking Mitch. Cockblocking me and he’s not even here.
Mitch