“Sure.” I headed toward her dorm room, but she didn’t follow me. I stopped walking. “Hello?’
She grinned. “Hi.”
“Why aren’t you coming with me?”
“I have to go back to the party.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Marie’s waiting for me. I promised her I wouldn’t leave early again.”
I stiffened. I didn’t like the thought of her hanging out with more guys like the one who’d just kissed her. “You’re going back to that place? To that guy?”
“Yeah, I can handle him.”
She started for the party, but I grabbed her elbow. “Don’t go. Those places are asking for trouble. What if something bad happens?”
She raised her brows. “What if it doesn’t?”
“At least let me go with you.”
“Nope.” She wiggled free and started walking again. “I want to be on my own. I’m ready to go back into the masses. If I’m going to be in college, I have to get used to this type of thing, right?”
“You don’t have to party to be in college,” I said tightly. “You can, ya know, study.”
“I plan on doing that.” She stopped on the steps of the party. The loud music came out the windows, and I could see a couple getting pretty hot and heavy almost directly behind her. Would that be her soon? “But tonight I’m being someone besides myself. And I’m going to go have some fun, even if it kills me.”
It might not kill her, but she might be the death of me.
She wiggled her fingers in my direction and disappeared inside the building. I stood there awkwardly, my hands in my pockets, and shifted on my feet so I could see her. She grabbed another wine cooler and made her way over to a young man sitting in the corner. He had blond hair and screamed of money.
He was probably born with a silver spoon in his mouth, just like Carrie. He wore high-quality clothing and his Rolex glinted in the dim lighting. The boy looked up at her as if she were a goddess and moved over so she could sit beside him. They conversed quietly, and then the boy laughed at something Carrie said.
While I watched from outside, like someone who didn’t belong.
Because I didn’t, in more ways than one.
Chapter 7
The next morning, I struggled to get to the surface, my lungs bursting with the need to breathe. The need for air. I kicked wildly but seemed to be getting nowhere fast. I knew time was running out. Knew I needed to breathe sooner rather than later. If I died in this ocean, Dad would kill me.
Finn had given me a ten-minute lecture about the dangers of surfing. Telling me to never leave his side, never take a wave that wasn’t the right size for me, never take chances, and above all—never disobey him out in the ocean. Out there, he was my boss and I would “fucking listen.” Well, I had followed all those rules. I had f**king listened.
But I was still drowning.
Just as I was certain I would never see the light of day again, a strong hand closed around my wrist and tugged me to the surface. As I gulped in a deep breath, the air stinging my oxygen-deprived lungs, I opened my eyes and saw Finn looking down at me with a tight jaw. Little droplets of water spiked on his long lashes, and his hair was soaking wet.
“Got you,” he said, his voice rough.
“Thanks,” I sputtered, struggling to catch my breath. I shivered, and he frowned down at me even more. “It’s c-cold under there.”
“Yeah. I noticed,” he said. A muscle ticked in his jaw again. What was his deal? “You almost drowned. You know that, right?”
“I was fine.” And I was also a big fat liar. I hadn’t been fine. Far from it. And truth be told? I’d been terrified. But that was all the more reason for me to keep going. To try again until I got better. I refused to back down. “Ready to go again?”
“Hell no. You’re done for today, no matter what you say,” he said, paddling toward the shore and towing me behind him like an errant child. “If I have to save your life one more time today, you’ll owe me your first born son.”
I could fight his hold and insist on continuing, but the truth was I was worn out. I could feel my exhaustion all the way to my bones. We’d been in the water for three hours. I was tired, achy, and freezing. California water might look inviting, but it was freaking frigid. “F-Fine. We’ll do it again next weekend.”
He shot me an incredulous look. “You want to go back out?”
“Of course,” I said through numb lips. “I want to learn.”
“You’re something else,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“W-What’s that supposed to mean?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I would’ve thought one time would be enough for you.”
“I don’t give up easily.” As soon as my feet hit sand, I pulled free of his grip. His assumptions about me were getting awfully annoying. “I get my steely determination from my father and my need to succeed from my mother. So don’t assume I’ll quit so easily.”
“Relax. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You did.”
I waited for him to apologize. To say he was wrong about me. Good thing I didn’t hold my breath, because I’d have died waiting. Instead, he shot me an amused look and slung his board under his arm. When he reached for mine, I shook my head and mimicked his hold with my own.
“Refusing help now?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with amusement.
I had to know how to do this myself. He wouldn’t always be with me. “I don’t need you doting all over me, thank you very much.”
“Doting?” he spluttered, his face turning red. “I’m not doting on you. Christ.”
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own board.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath. He shook his head and walked toward our towels. “Take off the wetsuit.”
I looked down at the only thing keeping me warm right now. “Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Can you not argue for one time in your life?”
“Excuse me for speaking my mind, master.” I stiffened. “I’d say it’ll never happen again, but it would be a lie.”
He laughed. “Just trust me, okay? You’ll warm up quicker without the suit.” He held out my towel. “And put this on once you’re out of it.”
Why did I have to wear a towel? Maybe he couldn’t stand the sight of me. “Right here?”