The guy who was sent to spy on her by her daddy.
Ever since she told me to leave her alone, she’d spent almost every passing second with Cory. They ate together. Walked together. Studied together. They seemed to be attached at the hip, and it was driving me insane with jealousy each time I saw them. Ripping my chest open until a tiny little monster grew bigger than fucking Godzilla. A part of me was sure she was hanging with that loser just to hurt me.
But she didn’t believe me about how much I cared for her—refused to believe me. So she wouldn’t be trying to hurt me if she thought I was just talking to her for the job, which only made it worse. It meant that every time she laughed at something Cory said and hugged the jerk closer, it was real. It wasn’t some scheme to torture me.
She actually liked the little fucker.
I parked my bike and slid off the seat. After taking off my shirt, I put on my wetsuit, my eyes on the blue water. It looked particularly impetuous today. Good. I was in the mood to get tossed around. Hard. I headed for the beach, excitement taking over for the first time since Carrie had broken it off with me. I would get out there, ride a few waves, and forget all about—
“Why are you here?” Carrie asked from somewhere behind me.
I paused midstride, my heart leaping at the sound of her voice. God, I had missed hearing that sass in her tone. That spark of something that no one else could possibly bring out in me. I forced a neutral expression to my face and turned to face her.
She wore her wetsuit, but had it down around her waist, and her unruly hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had big bags under her eyes, as if she’d been sleeping poorly. I forced my attention to return to the ocean, and said, “I’m going to church.”
“Haha.” Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her eye my surfboard, her blue eyes cold and her lips pressed tightly together. Her small spattering of freckles danced across her nose, and her curly red hair already whipped across her forehead. She looked perfect. “Very funny, but don’t quit your day job of stalking college girls.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny or a joke. This is my version of church.” I felt stupid for letting her know how I really felt about surfing, but there was no going back now. I’d already opened my big fat mouth. I shrugged and tried my best to look like I didn’t give a damn what she thought about me. “When I’m out there, it’s just me, God, and the ocean. No one else can interfere with me except Mother Nature herself.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “That’s awfully profound for a surfer boy.”
“I’m more than just a surfer boy, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m going surfing today, so you can’t go.”
“Excuse me?” I laughed at her audacity. “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t own the ocean, Princess.”
She stiffened. “No, but you work for my family and I don’t want you out there with me, so you have to listen to me. I’m your boss.”
Okay, that stung a little bit. It would be a lie to say it hadn’t. “The hell you are. I work for your father.”
Her face turned red. “Just go away. I don’t want to be out there with you.”
“Then surf farther south. Or north, for all I care.” I gestured toward the ocean with my board. “This is my beach, and I’m not leaving it. Not even for you.”
“I thought no one owned the beach,” she called out, taunting me. Even her stance was aggressive, her feet spread wide and her eyes flashing with anger. She wanted a fight, and she wanted it bad.
I wouldn’t rise to the bait. Wouldn’t fight. But I sure as hell wouldn’t back down either. “They don’t, but this is the beach my mother took me to every weekend as I grew up. It’s where we had our last night together, before she was gone forever. And it’s the beach I rode my first wave on, with her by my side. I’m sure as hell not leaving it because you hate me.”
I brushed past her, fully intending to leave her standing on that beach alone, but her soft word stopped me. “Wait.”
“What now?” I asked, my entire body tense.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” I turned to face her, and she swept her hair out of her face with a frustrated sigh. “I’m being a bitch. Just because I can’t stand the sight of you doesn’t mean I get to tell you to leave.”
“Such a heartfelt apology.”
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s the best I can do, considering.”
“May I go now, boss lady?” I cocked my head toward the ocean. “I’d like to enjoy the type of solitude only the ocean can give me before it’s too late.”
“You never mentioned wanting solitude out there before.”
“That’s because I was with you,” I reminded her.
She cocked her head. “Why did you take me, if you didn’t like going out there with other people?”
“Because with you? I didn’t mind.”
I headed for the ocean once more, leaving her standing there. She wouldn’t believe me anyway, so there was no point in waiting to see if she replied. She’d just accuse me of running a play on her, or trying to win her over so I could babysit her better. I wasn’t in the mood to get my heart trampled again.
Just my body.
I almost made it to the water before I got interrupted again. I bit back a curse when a blonde in a skimpy bikini stopped me. “Hey. Remember me?”
I scanned her face. Nope. I didn’t. “Uh…?”
“I work at Surf’s Up,” she said, punching my arm lightly. “I helped you pick out your girlfriend’s surfboard.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said, my eyes automatically scanning the beach for Carrie. She stood a few yards away, her own gaze on me…and the blonde at my side. “We’re not even friends anymore, really.”
Her nostrils flared. Could she hear us? She looked ready to kill someone. I wasn’t sure if her target was the girl or me—maybe both.
“Oh, well, I like the sound of that.” She trailed her fingers over my tattoo, giving me a flirtatious smile. “I like your ink. What’s it mean?”
I hated when girls asked that. It wasn’t any of their damn business what my ink meant. “Thanks, and nothing. It’s just ink.”
“Oh. Hot.”
That was…deep. About as deep as a puddle. I cleared my throat and looked at Carrie again. Her fists were clenched at her sides. Was she jealous? Nah. Not possible. “You surf?”
The blonde laughed and punched me again. Why did girls think that was sexy? I only liked one girl hitting me, but she didn’t even want to touch me right now. Or ever. “No, I just help out at the store, and I date a lot of surfers. Only surfers.”
Before I could reply, Carrie walked up to some shirtless guy. She smiled at him and handed him sunscreen. The jerk smiled back at her and Carrie turned her back to the guy. When the jerk squirted sunscreen on his hands and massaged it over Carrie’s shoulders, I clenched my teeth. Carrie laughed at something the guy said, slapping his arm lightly. The jerk didn’t seem to mind either.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured. “I’m going to kill her.”
Blondie shot me the dirtiest look ever. “Just friends, huh?” Then she was gone.
I stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Carrie. That’s what happened.
She thanked the helpful guy, then headed for the water, pulling up her wetsuit. I caught up to her within seconds. “What was that all about?”
“What?” She blinked at me innocently, but the smirk was harder to hide. “I needed sunscreen.”
“Under your wetsuit?”
“Sure. You can never be too careful.” She shrugged. “Did you have fun with Bambi over there?”
And just like that, I relaxed. “You’re jealous.”
She snorted and snorted again. As if such a preposterous statement required a double snort. “I am not.”