Wild Child. Cindi Myers
skin testified to her devotion to SPF.
She left her beach bag in Gus’s care, then headed down the shore with Drew. The sand was already strewn with beach chairs and vacationers sunning themselves on towels or reclining beneath umbrellas. Children splashed in the shallows while older teens and adults floated on the waves farther out. The smells of coconut suntan oil and salty seawater mingled with the polished-floor scent of the surfboards they carried.
“What beach did you hang out at when you were a kid?” Drew asked. “Was it this one?”
“Not usually. Most of the time I hung out at County Line Beach.” In those days there hadn’t been much at County Line but a few portable toilets and lots of surfers. It was the perfect place for anyone looking to get away from parents, school or too many rules. The perfect place for a kid to get into trouble, and Sara had found her share of that. She skipped school so much she almost failed her junior year of high school. She smoked pot, drank beer and wasn’t above stealing snacks and small items from local stores on her way to the beach. The people she hung out with then were just like her—rebels and dropouts who were truly at home only on the beach.
She wondered if things had changed much at her old hang-out. She hadn’t been back in years.
“Good surfing there,” Drew said. “Good diving at the kelp beds, too.”
“Mostly I just hung out,” she said. “Worked on my tan and watched the surfers.” The guys and gals who rode the waves on longboards had represented the ultimate freedom to her. They were popular, tanned and at home in their environment in a way she—an awkward, fatherless teen who’d moved halfway across the country to a city where she knew no one—found difficult.
“Now you’re going to be one of those surfers.”
They walked past the crowds to an area of the shore that was almost deserted at this hour. “This is a good place to put in.” Drew stopped and planted the tail of his board in the sand. “You want to start out with some small waves—stuff you won’t even think worth surfing later.”
She squinted out at the waves. They didn’t look very large from here, but her stomach still fluttered with nervousness at the idea of trying to ride them. “I guess that’s why no one else is here,” she said.
“That’s good. You want to avoid crowds. Plus, surfers get ticked off at beginners who get in their way.”
“I think that’s why I never learned before,” she said. “I didn’t want to be one of those people my heroes always complained about.”
He laughed. “I’ve been one of those guys complaining myself, but I won’t give you any grief today. We’ll take it slow and before you know it, you’ll be riding a wave. I promise.”
She nodded, though she had her doubts. Still, she would never learn if she didn’t try. This vacation was all about breaking out of old patterns and trying new things. “Okay. Where do we start?”
“First, we’re going to do some push-ups.”
“Push-ups?” She frowned at him. “You’re going to make me work out before we get in the water?”
“We just need to practice a few moves that you’ll use out there and it’s easier to start on land.”
She was still skeptical. “Push-ups?”
“Sort of. Watch me.” He lay on his stomach in the sand. Dressed only in baggy Hawaiian print shorts, his body was brown and muscular, his legs long, dusted with golden hairs. Sara felt a tickle of desire in her midsection, and had a fleeting image of her lying in the sand beside him, rolling into his arms.
In one swift movement, he levered himself into a push-up, then sprang to a crouch, one foot in front of the other. He lifted his arms and balanced there, swaying slightly like a surfer adjusting his stance to the waves. He looked up at her and grinned. “Think you can do that?”
“Sure.” She lay in the sand, trying to recall exactly what he’d done. She wasn’t a gym rat, but she took the occasional yoga class and walked a lot around her neighborhood. That counted for exercise, didn’t it?
“Now imagine you’re on your board,” Drew said. “A wave is coming. Jump up and ride it.”
Hoisting her body into a push-up was no problem, but jumping into a crouch from there was more difficult than it had appeared. She wobbled into position, arms out, sand sticking to her chest and stomach.
“You need to move faster,” Drew said. “Remember, that wave’s coming and you have to get on your feet.”
She tried again. “How’s that?”
“Your feet need to be farther apart. The front foot should be near the middle of the board, sort of centered under your body, and the back foot should be toward the tail.”
She tried again, and again, until she was panting and sweating. She looked up at Drew through a fringe of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “How’s that?”
He nodded. “Better. You’ll want to practice more on your own.” He extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and began brushing sand from her stomach and sides.
His hands were warm, and the contact made her warmer still. When his fingers grazed her breast a tremor shuddered through her and she swayed a little. He stilled and their eyes met, his gaze heated and intense. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be sorry.” She wet her lips, hoping he’d kiss her. Her mouth tingled in anticipation of his touch. Who cared about surfing? There were better things to do on a deserted section of beach.
But he looked away, and the moment passed. “I think we’re ready to get in the water. First, attach your leash. That will keep you from losing your board when you fall off.”
“Who says I’m going to fall off?” she teased as she snapped the tether around her ankle.
“You’ll fall off. You won’t learn if you don’t.” He straightened. “We’re going to lie down on our boards and paddle out into the water.”
“Sounds simple enough.” She followed him out into the water, pushing her surfboard along in front of her.
“It’s harder than it looks. Now get on your board.”
She wrestled the surfboard into position and managed to flop down onto it—not an easy feat in the choppy water. “What now?”
“The most important thing is to balance. That’s the key to surfing every step of the way. Keep your weight centered on the board. Don’t lean back toward the tail. Paddle with cupped hands.” He demonstrated and she mimicked him. They began to move forward, bobbing in the waves.
“This isn’t bad.” She grinned at him. “It’s even kind of f—” At that moment, a larger wave descended, flipping her over. She came up sputtering, eyes stinging from the salt water.
“You okay?” Drew called.
“Fine.” Everything except her dignity. She hoisted herself back onto her board.
Drew paddled over to her. “It’s hard to paddle over bigger waves, so you need to learn to duck dive.”
“Duck dive? As in going under water?” She didn’t like the sound of that.
“Just for a minute. Just under the wave, really. It can be fun.” He turned to study the horizon, then pointed. “See that bigger swell heading toward us?”
“I see it.”
“Okay, you want to line up perpendicular to it, then a couple of feet before it reaches you, grab both sides of the board and shove the nose down. Once the nose is under, use your knee to force the tail under. Do it right and you’ll bob right up on the other side of the wave.”
“And if I do it wrong?”
He