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Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

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His shocked eyes don’t move from mine. “No.” I try to play it off as nothing, but it’s furthest from the truth. Growing up in a state smack bang in the middle of America meant I never lived by the sea so this was the first place I came to after… everything. “It was always part of the plan…” I trail off.

Learning how to surf was the first thing on top of my list. A list that not one item has been crossed off. Maybe I should start and have more days like this where I cross those things off?

“What plan—”

I stand up, my arms flying out and touching his board as I cut him off, “Teach me.”

He follows me, brushing the sand off his hands. “Teach you? To surf?”

I cock my hip to the side, tilting my head. “Well yeah, what else would I be asking you to teach me?” His lips lift up into a slow and steady smirk. “No.” I shake my head in exasperation and point at him. “I can hear your thoughts from here.”

His eyes flash. “Yeah, well there’s a lot of things I could teach you.” He steps closer, the heat of his body seeping into my skin. “But, surfing? You really want to learn?”

“Hmmm.” I let my hand drop off his board, bringing it up to my lips and tapping the pad of my finger on them. “Are you saying you’re not capable of teaching me? Should I head on over to the rental hut and ask them if they have a guy that can—”

“Hey, hey, hey, I never said I couldn’t. It’s just…” He looks me up and down. “The sea is pretty cold, we’ll need to go get you a wetsuit. And my board isn’t for beginners, we’ll get you your own.”

I grin big and wide as he pulls his board out of the sand and I collect my things, pushing them all into my tote bag. He holds the board under his left arm while holding his other hand out, grasping mine as he pulls me along with him and toward one of the shops sitting along the path at the top of the beach.

The callouses on his palms rub against mine, causing a slight shiver to roll through me. How can he act like this one touch isn’t affecting him at all? Maybe it isn’t. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same heat flowing through my body when our skin touches. Maybe he doesn’t feel the spark seeming to ignite into a roaring fire whenever our bodies are only inches apart.

He lets go of my hand to stand his board outside the shop, placing it in the rack along with the other boards. The second his skin leaves mine, I feel the absence. But as soon as it’s gone it’s replaced and he drags me inside.

“You’ll need a wetsuit, a shorty like mine should do.” He stops and seems to be thinking for a second. “Your board needs to be a soft top foam board, we’ll size them up but you need to get one way bigger than you. Size matters.” He winks before he starts looking through rails of wetsuits, taking one off and putting it in front of me. “Here, this should fit. Wanna go try it on and I’ll grab some other things?”

I stare after him as he spins around, heading to another rack near the register, picking things up and placing them on the counter. I haven’t got a clue about any of the stuff he just said, and I have no idea what that is he just placed on the counter. A cuff?

I frown as I watch him piling things up before he catches my gaze and motions with his hands behind me. Spinning around, I see the changing room sign and head inside. Hooking my tote bag on the hook on the wall after closing the door, I unzip the suit and sit down on the small bench, taking my sandals off before pushing my feet into the leg holes and wrestling it up my body. After some serious huffing and puffing, I blow out a breath causing my hair to waft around my face. I feel like I just did a workout and I’m not even in the water yet.

Letting my arms flow to my sides, I take a look in the mirror. The suit hugs my thighs but is loose around the middle and when I tilt my head, I see I still need to do the zip up. There’s something attached to it which allows me to grab hold of it. I pull it all the way up, effectively turning me into walking spanks and sucking everything in.

I twist and turn, not liking how it clings to me. This is a bad idea, I shouldn’t do this.

As I’m about to pull the zipper down and take it off, I catch my eyes in the mirror. The chocolate brown seems brighter—warmer—than it has in weeks. Every time I’m around Nate he seems to take everything away, leaving only what is going on around us. He makes me feel like I can truly escape anything.

Pushing my shoulders back, I tell myself I can do this, even if it means him seeing every curve and dip of my body. Screw it.

Grabbing my bag off the hook and shoving my sandals in there, I push through the door and back into the main shop.

Nate is standing next to four different boards leaning against one wall, patiently waiting for me. His eyes slowly trail over my body before stopping briefly on my waist and then finally coming up to my eyes. They burn with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before.

“I—” His voice is croaky so he clears it before saying, “I see it fits perfectly.”

I swallow. “It does.” He watches me, his chest heaving on a breath. I shift under his attention before taking the several steps that separate us, his eyes stalking me. “So, the board?” I touch the white board that has three different-colored stripes down the middle. “Which one is best?”

“These four are perfect, you just need to see which fits you best when you try and carry it.”

“Right.” I trail my finger along the white one before moving in front of the most colorful one. I touch it where the yellow bleeds into red in the middle of the board before mixing with a royal blue at the bottom. “This one,” I say, looking from the board to Nate. “This is the one.”

I try it out, making sure I can carry it, and when Nate is satisfied we head over to the register, picking everything up as he nods to the man standing behind it.

“We haven’t paid,” I mumble as we walk out of the shop.

He looks back at me, rolling his eyes as we stop where his board is, ignoring what I said as he points to my bag on my shoulder.

“Want to put that in my car?”

“I…” His brow raises as my gaze flicks back to the shop and then him. “Yeah.”



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