spot in front of the glass-covered building. I get out of my car,
smoothing my shorts and tank top nervously.
“Camryn,” Cooper’s voice came from the
marina steps, immediately freezing the blood that’s flowing through my veins. I
look up, shielding my eyes from the obtrusive sun with one hand. And as I spot
him, I very nearly drop my bag, my keys, and my lower jaw.
He looks mouthwatering. I mean, just
pure, unadulterated handsomeness. I have never seen anything like him, and I
almost live on the beach in the summer. Hot guys in swim trunks are kind of a normal
thing around here.
He is wearing navy blue board shorts
covered in white anchors. Very preppy, and a direct contrast to his shaggy
brown hair glinting in the sunlight and the sexy stubble that grazed his chin. Also
a direct opposite to the tattoo that stretches over his stomach. Old English
letters that I’m currently too far away to read. I also see a tattoo peeking
out from under the shirtsleeves right at each sinewy bicep. His graphic t-shirt
hugs his well-defined chest and rippling stomach. Something makes me wonder
exactly what that chest and stomach would look like without the t-shirt.
Holy shit. He’s putting every other high
school boy to shame in his swimming gear. Maybe with the exception of Luka, but
Luka’s a freak of nature. So is Cooper as it seems.
He descends the brick steps leading down
from the marina office doors.
“Hey,” he said. That one word reaches my
ears as if he’s practiced the exact way to say it in order to send chills
running up and down my legs with the effort.
I don’t know how I find my voice, but
somehow I do, and a very small “hey” squeaks out.
This is absurd. Really ridiculous, the
effect he continues to have on me. I have to get it together.
“Thanks for the invite,” I say, with more
enthusiasm. “What are we doing today?”
“Come with me, and you’ll see.” He holds
out his hand for me to take.
I hesitate before I do, and touching his
hand is like placing my palm into a pool of lightning. The only word for it is
electrifying. I glance up at him to see if he shows any reaction. He’s staring
at our hands through the haze of those long, dark eyelashes, and the look in
his eyes is confused and fascinated at the same time.
I drop my eyes as those warm green ones
meet mine, and he tugs me gently up the steps and around to the back of the
building.
The back of the office building opens up
to a wide vista of ocean. The view is breathtaking, peppered by sailboats
drifting into the horizon. Docked at the marina are a wide variety of boats and
other watersports vehicles. Cooper leads me to a pair of jet skis tied to a
lonesome dock at the end of a long row of motorboats.
I squeal with delight. “We’re
jet-skiing?”
He laughs, a deep, raspy sound low in his
throat. His laugh is causing funny things to happen to my vision, and I place
my hand on his arm to steady myself.
“I take it you like jet skis?”
“I do! I’ve only been one other time, but
it’s so much fun! I love the rush of it, the only other time I have that
feeling is when I’m onstage.”
“Onstage, huh?” he asks, gazing at me
like he has a secret.
“What?” I asked suspiciously. They
mysterious look in his eye makes me slightly nervous.
“I’m just picturing that. You, onstage,
dancing…” he pauses, and my eyes drop to his throat. I watch, fascinated, as he
swallows hard. His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion, and I can’t recall
another example of me studying someone’s Adam’s apple. It’s new. And sexy.
“And?”
“And….nothing.” He swallows again. “So
you know how to operate one of these?” He bends down and began untying one of
the skis.
I can’t be sure, because he looks away so
quickly, but I think I see Cooper blush .
Something I said or did has caused this sexy, controlled, cool guy to feel
embarrassed.
Unbelievable.
I shimmy out of my shorts in preparation
to board the wave runner. I
smoothing my shorts and tank top nervously.
“Camryn,” Cooper’s voice came from the
marina steps, immediately freezing the blood that’s flowing through my veins. I
look up, shielding my eyes from the obtrusive sun with one hand. And as I spot
him, I very nearly drop my bag, my keys, and my lower jaw.
He looks mouthwatering. I mean, just
pure, unadulterated handsomeness. I have never seen anything like him, and I
almost live on the beach in the summer. Hot guys in swim trunks are kind of a normal
thing around here.
He is wearing navy blue board shorts
covered in white anchors. Very preppy, and a direct contrast to his shaggy
brown hair glinting in the sunlight and the sexy stubble that grazed his chin. Also
a direct opposite to the tattoo that stretches over his stomach. Old English
letters that I’m currently too far away to read. I also see a tattoo peeking
out from under the shirtsleeves right at each sinewy bicep. His graphic t-shirt
hugs his well-defined chest and rippling stomach. Something makes me wonder
exactly what that chest and stomach would look like without the t-shirt.
Holy shit. He’s putting every other high
school boy to shame in his swimming gear. Maybe with the exception of Luka, but
Luka’s a freak of nature. So is Cooper as it seems.
He descends the brick steps leading down
from the marina office doors.
“Hey,” he said. That one word reaches my
ears as if he’s practiced the exact way to say it in order to send chills
running up and down my legs with the effort.
I don’t know how I find my voice, but
somehow I do, and a very small “hey” squeaks out.
This is absurd. Really ridiculous, the
effect he continues to have on me. I have to get it together.
“Thanks for the invite,” I say, with more
enthusiasm. “What are we doing today?”
“Come with me, and you’ll see.” He holds
out his hand for me to take.
I hesitate before I do, and touching his
hand is like placing my palm into a pool of lightning. The only word for it is
electrifying. I glance up at him to see if he shows any reaction. He’s staring
at our hands through the haze of those long, dark eyelashes, and the look in
his eyes is confused and fascinated at the same time.
I drop my eyes as those warm green ones
meet mine, and he tugs me gently up the steps and around to the back of the
building.
The back of the office building opens up
to a wide vista of ocean. The view is breathtaking, peppered by sailboats
drifting into the horizon. Docked at the marina are a wide variety of boats and
other watersports vehicles. Cooper leads me to a pair of jet skis tied to a
lonesome dock at the end of a long row of motorboats.
I squeal with delight. “We’re
jet-skiing?”
He laughs, a deep, raspy sound low in his
throat. His laugh is causing funny things to happen to my vision, and I place
my hand on his arm to steady myself.
“I take it you like jet skis?”
“I do! I’ve only been one other time, but
it’s so much fun! I love the rush of it, the only other time I have that
feeling is when I’m onstage.”
“Onstage, huh?” he asks, gazing at me
like he has a secret.
“What?” I asked suspiciously. They
mysterious look in his eye makes me slightly nervous.
“I’m just picturing that. You, onstage,
dancing…” he pauses, and my eyes drop to his throat. I watch, fascinated, as he
swallows hard. His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion, and I can’t recall
another example of me studying someone’s Adam’s apple. It’s new. And sexy.
“And?”
“And….nothing.” He swallows again. “So
you know how to operate one of these?” He bends down and began untying one of
the skis.
I can’t be sure, because he looks away so
quickly, but I think I see Cooper blush .
Something I said or did has caused this sexy, controlled, cool guy to feel
embarrassed.
Unbelievable.
I shimmy out of my shorts in preparation
to board the wave runner. I
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