The Perfect Indulgence
“Deal.” Luke picked up speed, then took a right turn toward the Carmia Pier, which was lined with bars, restaurants and surf shops. “But we’re going to a different bar first. I’m gonna need a beer or two for courage.”
* * *
“SO IT WAS cranking out there, really firing. I drop in and I’m charging this wave, totally owning the pocket. I carve my bottom turn totally perfect, I’m totally amped, getting ready to kick out, and some goat boater crosses me and I have to bail before I eat it.” Bodie laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Man, that pissed me off.”
Chris took a gulp of her third margarita, dimly aware that she was drinking too much too fast, but she had to numb the pain somehow. There had to be a finite number of waves in Bodie’s life, and there had to be a limit to the number of details he remembered about each one, right? Please?
“So then, there was this time on Indian Beach when I—”
“Bodie.” The third margarita had given her enough courage to call it a night. “This has been great, but I think I’m ready to go.”
His face brightened. Chris could have kicked herself. Maybe he’d been boring himself, too? She should have suggested they end their date an hour and two margaritas ago. She shouldn’t even have agreed to come—that had been clear about two seconds after she’d said yes. But that morning she’d woken up in a horrendous old-Chris state of anxiety over the kiss with Zac and what it meant and what it didn’t mean, and then he’d walked into Slow Pour and she’d wanted him to stay and she’d wanted him to leave, so by the time Bodie asked her out, she’d just wanted something in life to be simple.
Bodie was nothing if not simple.
“Awesome.” Bodie signaled the waitress. “Where do you want to go? My place?”
Chris blinked. “Uh, I meant I want to go home.”
“Okay, that’s cool, too.” He dug out his wallet. “This is on me, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Generally she’d insist on paying her half, but after what Bodie had put her through, his paying was pure justice.
“No problem.” He shook back his hair, which wasn’t really long enough to shake, plus it had been overbaked by sun and dried crispy by salt, so it barely moved. “Money is not a problem for me.”
“That’s nice.” She smiled politely, glad for him. After all, considering his intelligence and personality were clearly lacking, he might as well be rich.
Thankfully the waitress brought back his receipt quickly and they were out of the restaurant and over to Bodie’s car in a flash. He drove ridiculously fast all the way to her house, obviously as eager as she was to get the evening over with. And to his credit, he was gentlemanly enough to walk her to her front door, where she leaned in for a quick sisterly hug before she—
Urgh. The hug was not quick. She was crushed against him, and then backed up against the door, where he covered her mouth with his. His tongue seemed to be everywhere, exploring her molars with great curiosity.
Ew.
She broke free. “Um, Bodie—”
“I know, babe, I’m feeling it, too.” He leaned in for more, mouth open terrifyingly wide. “Let’s go inside and finish what we started.”
“Bodie!” She was having a hard time not laughing. “That isn’t what... I’m not—”
“Baby. You ’n’ me, we could have something as epic as Lord of the Rings, as wild as wolves in the woods, as kinky as...” He was clearly struggling. “Kinky as...”
“Boots?” she offered helpfully.
“Yeah, okay, if you’re into that, I’m there.” His breath was warm on her face. Unfortunately, he’d had something for dinner with a lot of garlic. “All I know is...with what I feel for you, we could set the very ocean on fire.”
A snort escaped her. Then another one. No, no, no, she couldn’t laugh, she couldn’t— She did.
“Has there been a recent oil spill?” Another gale of laughter, then she saw that Bodie was not amused and reined herself in, though one last snort escaped her. “Sorry.”
“Hey, so I misspoke myself.” He took a step back, looking annoyed. “No need to get all name-calling like that.”