“Jamie—”

“You came here wantin’ a lesson from me, a motherfuckin’ surf lesson, which is a water sport, babe, requires water, lots of it, and didn’t think to mention the fact that you’ve never been in the ocean before, might be a little unsure about it, and fuck, I don’t know, also possibly straight up freaked the fuck out about the entire experience since you nearly died drowning when you were little? You didn’t feel like that information was important enough to share?”

“I honestly didn’t think you were going to take me out in the water.”

“We’re surfin’, Legs. What the fuck do you think we’re gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Practice on land?”

I glared at her.

“I should’ve said something,” she whispered.

“No fuckin’ shit!” I barked, causing her to flinch and suck in a breath.

“God. Why are you yelling at me?”

Her eyes searched my face. She was breathing heavy.

“Why?” I straightened up and jabbed a finger at my chest. “Because I’m over here having the time of my life, smiling like a fuckin’ idiot ’cause I got your tits pressed up against me after forcin’ you out in the water when you were scared. That’s why.”

Her eyes flicked wider.

“I saw your hesitation goin’ out,” I continued. “I read you, but since you didn’t feel the need to share your fuckin’ fears with me, I wasn’t worried about it. Figured you were just nervous ’cause of that suit you were wearin’. Not ’cause you nearly died when you were a kid. Jesus Christ. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Tori blinked several times. Her mouth tightened. “I’m sorry, okay? It was that stupid bet! I was just trying—”

“Fuck the bet! Something could’ve happened to you!”

She sucked in a breath and pressed her fingers to her lips, looking on the verge of tears.

“Shit,” I muttered, stepping back and scrubbing at my face roughly with my hands. My chest was heaving. My muscles were locking tight.

What the fuck? I was losing it. I needed to chill out.

She wasn’t hurt.

But she could’ve been. Shit.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet. Barely above a whisper.

I dropped my hands and looked at her.

“I should’ve told you,” she added once our eyes met. “I should’ve said something. I know that now. I’m sorry.” She stepped closer. “Seriously, Jamie, I … I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

She blinked at me, fingers twisting in my shirt at her sides, chewing on the inside of her cheek and looking out of words, but also looking like she could break down at any second and fall apart in tears.

I was pissed, but I didn’t want her crying.

I exhaled a breath and rolled my shoulders, eyes on the sand, trying to ease the tension pulling across my back and low in my neck.

It didn’t work.

Fuck this. I had a better idea.

“Stay here,” I ordered, pointing at her face.

It was tight with worry and regret. She blinked and nodded, letting me know she was gonna listen.

Good. Wasn’t in the mood to track her ass down.

I stalked out from behind the dune, finding my board washed up on the beach. After propping it up against the lifeguard stand, getting permission to leave it there ’cause I was cool with the guy, I grabbed all of her shit and mine, which included my towel, a pack of smokes, and my lighter, then I went back around behind the dune, seeing Tori still standing where I left her, in the same position I left her in, with that same bothered look on her face.

“Let’s go,” I said, handing over her stuff. “You owe me a drink.”

She blinked up at me and sniffled. “Excuse me?”

“A drink. We’re drinkin’. Let’s go.” I moved to lead us to the tiki bar down the beach.

“I don’t want to drink.”

Halting, I turned my head, then I hit her with a scowl. “Worried the shit outta me. Got me hatin’ my reaction to feelin’ your perfect tits. And you were fuckin’ scared.” I grabbed her hand and tugged. “We’re drinkin’. Both of us.”

Eyes wide, Tori went with me. She didn’t put up a fight. Not with her mouth or her body.

We were drinking.

Both of us.

Chapter Five

TORI

Jamie was pulling me down the beach. He had my hand wrapped in his and he was gripping it tightly.

And I was letting him.

Typically, I wouldn’t be allowing any parts of Jamie to be touching any parts of me. Ever. No way. I knew what touching led to. But considering I’d already latched on to him like a monkey climbing a tree today, doing this half-naked no less, and also considering how terrible I was feeling about not telling him my past or my fears, I was letting Jamie do his thing and I wasn’t fighting it.

I owed him that much.

Honestly, I probably owed him more than he was asking of me right now.

He was pissed. And he had the right to be pissed.

I should’ve said something.

It wasn’t that I was scared of the ocean. Like I told Jamie, I knew the basics when it came to swimming. I could swim. I was just a little nervous when it came to large, unpredictable bodies of water, that’s all.

Plus, there was the whole worry that I’d drown and have it be fatal this time. That might’ve been weighing heavy on my mind when I was hesitating walking out toward him.

Again, something I should’ve shared.

But no. I was playing dirty and too busy focused on hearing those sweet begging words to bother with sharing phobias. And now look at me.

Shaken up. Embarrassed. Letting this loser touch me. Missing half of the most expensive bikini I’d ever purchased and forced to cover up in a T-shirt that unfortunately didn’t smell terrible, at all. In fact, it smelled amazing, and while I was being dragged down the beach, I was battling the urge to bury my face in it and inhale deep lungfuls of arrogant surfer boy.

So apparently, I was also out of my mind. All because I let some stupid bet get to me.

The tiki bar Jamie was leading us to was more like a mini restaurant right on the beach. It had the standard wooden bar top and stools for patrons to sit, torches burning, and calypso music pumping through the speakers. It also had a large seating area with tables and chairs shaded by umbrellas and a stage for a band to perform on, I was guessing. There was no one on it at the moment.

Once Jamie reached the tables, he released my hand. Then he headed straight for the bar, pulled out a stool for himself, pulled out one for me, caught my eye, and then gave me a look indicating I needed to sit in the stool he was offering or we’d be having words. Heated ones, most likely.

Again, I owed him.

He took his seat after I took mine.

I threw my bag up on the bar and kept the towel in my lap, then having free hands, I fixed my hair into a bun so it looked intentionally messy, not like I’d just gotten tossed around by a wave.

Hair situation under control, I was now halfway presentable and blending into the crowd nicely, considering everyone was wearing bathing suits or skimpy cover-ups.

“My man! What’s goin’ on, brother?” the bartender greeted Jamie, holding his hand out and then doing that thing guys do when they embrace by mixing a handshake with a one-armed hug.