in her mouth and could blame me for the entire thing.”
“How was that your fault?!”
Ax innocently shrugs. “I guess ‘cause I ordered the app, but she told me to order whatever!”
Another look of discomfort graces my face.
“Nearly murdering a woman on accident is definitely gonna take home the trophy for my worst first date ever.”
“Yeah, no contest for the others.”
His lips purse to one side in silent, shameful agreement.
Not wanting him to think I hold him accountable for what was clearly unintentional, I give the back of his hand a sweet stroke. “Should we keep this shit going? Expose more awful first date mishaps?”
Ax’s expression regains its goodhearted nature.
“I’ve probably got at least four more in me.”
“Probably closer to ten for me.” He offers me a crooked grin and grabs his drink. “I’m basically the red king crab of terrible first dates.”
“And yet, you keep having them.”
“Only way I’ll get to having my last first one…”
The implication that it might be me seems like I’m overreaching until I notice the way he’s continuing to stare rather than having a sip of the beverage he’s holding.
What if this is both of our last first dates?
And why doesn’t that “what if” bring me anything other than pure excitement?
Chapter 2
Most people hate wipeouts.
Me?
I tend to view them like the water’s testing you.
Like it wants to see what you’re made of.
You got knocked down, so now what?
Do you have the basic skills to get back to the surface for air?
Better yet, do have the balls to get back on your board or in your kayak after being taken out?
For me, the answer to that will always be yes.
At least, when I’m in the ocean.
Can’t say I feel the same way about shit on land, although I mean that in a more metaphorical sense than a physical one.
Riding what I know is our last trim line for the early morning, especially after the hard wipeout I just took, is what leads me to executing a laxer trick for my final moment. The simple spins along the wave are enough to keep me happily engaged. Cold water splashing my face over and over again is a much better way to wake up than anything else I’ve ever experienced. No cup of Starbucks or smells of fresh salmon hash could ever fucking compare.
That tide of thought brings up a valid point.
We’re wrapping up, which means going to breakfast next is a definite must.
Bodyboarding is a great workout, my second favorite to surfing, but it never fails to create a Pipeline sized hunger.
Gigantic and deadly.
Okay, probably not deadly, but I like dramatic emphasis and getting to compare shit to my favorite shit.
Our arrival back on the shore is quickly proceeded by me swiftly shaking my head to banish some of the water from it. The well-known action is received by my two best friends the same way it is anytime we catch the morning waves together.
“Why do you do that shit?” Bodhi complains, hand held up to shield his warm, ivory complexion from a few drops that soar his way. “Why can’t you just cut your fucking hair, man? Wouldn’t it be easier?”
“If he did that shit, I couldn’t call him Goldilocks,” Eli, aka E, says on a loud chuckle and steps out of the splash zone.
“You do know that shit is more of a valid point for my side rather than an appropriate opposing argument?”
E tilts his chestnut-colored face to the side. “Is it?”
“Pretty sure it is.”
“I’m pretty sure Ax likes to be called Goldilocks.”
“I don’t think anyone likes to be called Goldilocks, Eli. Not even Goldilocks. Hell, I’m not even sure if that was her real name or just the name the bears gave her, which is an appropriate allusion to how we tend to judge individuals based on looks before everything else as a society.”
“Nope,” E shakes his head while he undoes his board leash from his arm. “Not doin’ that shit this fucking early with you, Bodhi.”
“Agreed,” I lightly snicker while undoing my own.
Bodhi grunts his concession and follows in the removal of his equipment.
“Whose turn is it to pick the breakfast spot?” E asks, our actions of taking off our fins being done in tandem.
“I wanna say it’s Ax’s,” Bodhi promptly replies.
My mouth lowers to suggest somewhere I know has an amazing buffet that would make even Poseidon happily pull up a chair to the table and join us when a sight much more appetizing renders me speechless.
How is it one woman is