Page 11 of Crashing Into You

So now I not only have to get up early on my day off, but I also have to go for a swim. With Bryce Maylands.

I take my tea back inside, glancing at the time with a sigh. But, a short while later, as I set my alarm for the morning, I can’t help the throb of excitement running through me at the thought of seeing him again. Even if I do have to go swimming.

ChapterSix

Claire

The sun is bright as I pull into the small car park opposite Fairhaven surf club. Another beautiful early summer day. I sit there for a moment, trying to calm my nerves. This is fine. It’s just a swim. With a boy.

Who kissed me so thoroughly last night I can’t stop thinking about it.

Okay. I need to stop thinking about it. I’m half an hour early, unable to sleep once the sun woke me, so I’ve got time to get my head together. My phone has been buzzing all morning as well; I’ve ignored it. Simon can just get over it. Maybe seeing me with someone else will be the shock he needs to finally let me go.

I get out of the car, hoisting my canvas bag over my shoulder. I’m wearing my swimsuit under an Ocean’s Curl terry-towelling beach dress, courtesy of Anna. It’s warm and cosy, and I dig my hands in the pockets as I take the underpass beneath the Great Ocean Road, emerging on the beach side.

A breeze blows off the water, waves rolling in to shore. There are a few surfers in the water, people walking along the beach. I think about going for a walk as well, but I don’t want to miss Bryce. I sit down instead. The sand is cool and silky against my bare legs, and I focus on my breathing again, the way the counsellor taught me. The water is beautiful, blue and sparkling, the waves soft with foam. I watch the surfers, admiring how smoothly they ride the swell, their boards carving lines in the deep blue. Then I remember that I’m going to be swimming out there in a little while. My breath gets shorter, panic curling in the base of my stomach. It’s not that I can’t swim– I have a pool, after all– but I’m just not used to open water. Simon wasn’t into the surf scene either, which was part of my initial attraction to him; he preferred coffee bars and late-night jam sessions to getting in the water. My mood darkens at the thought of him and I close my eyes, willing my body to relax.

My mind immediately goes to the way Bryce’s mouth felt on mine. How all of him felt pressed against me. My lips part, my pulse racing. My god. The effect of a single kiss on me! I’m anything but relaxed. Maybe this is a bad idea and I should go home. I’m sure he won’t be bothered if I stand him up. It’s not like he’s short of female attention.

Okay, so I might have googled Bryce last night before I went to sleep. It wasn’t great, to be honest. Lots of gorgeous photos of him surfing in beautiful places. But lots more of him partying, stumbling out of bars, wrapped around many, many different girls, including one shot of him with the two girls from the shop, obviously all in bed together. I thought about standing him up then, to be honest. But then I remembered how kind he was, how he helped me with Simon then looked after me all evening, making sure I got home safe. It had all seemed genuine, not some act. The least I can do is meet up with him and thank him again. I don’t have to see him after that if I don’t want to.

But my gut is still swirling. Maybe I should go home after all. These waters feel a bit too deep to swim in.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

Shit. It’s Bryce.

I open my eyes, trying to look all Zen and meditative, not at all like I was panicking at the thought of seeing him.

But my god.

Difficult to look meditative when six foot two inches of muscled surfer clad in dripping wet black rubber is towering over me. He holds out his hand.

I take it.

He pulls me to my feet, so I almost bang into him. His hand comes to my waist, steadying me, and something flares briefly in his green eyes.

He grins. “Did I wake you?”

“Nope.” Again that feeling of defiance, like I need to push against him. “I was meditating, if you must know.”

“Meditating?” His sandy blond hair, darkened by the water, is pushed back from his gorgeous face, which is utterly distracting.

“Yeah. You might want to try it sometime.”

He laughs. “No need. The ocean is my meditation. Calms every worry I ever have.”

I start to ask what worries he could possibly have but there’s something in his expression, just for a moment: a flicker of darkness I recognise. I carry my own shadows, after all. Instead, I toss my head. “So. Looks like you’ve already had a swim. Shall we grab a coffee instead?”

“Nice try.” The grin is back again. “I’ve had a surf, not a swim. You sure you’re not chicken?”

I glance out at the waves and try not to gulp. “No. I’m fine. Ready when you are.”

He jerks his head towards the ocean. “Let’s go then.”

I pull my dress over my head, dropping it on top of my canvas bag. I fight the urge to cross my arms over myself, the white string bikini I’m wearing suddenly feeling a lot smaller than it did when I put it on this morning.

Bryce’s eyes widen for a moment, then his gaze drops over me, leisurely.