Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,38
felt them. What if we’d been doing this whole storytelling thing wrong in Bhatta Productions? Sure, the company entertained millions. But what was there beyond a quick thrill here and there? Was that what the YA author my dad had met with thought was missing? That level of feeling? Of understanding?
I couldn’t wait to tell Dad about this, to see if I could help him find ways to inject more emotion into the stories to help people like Ronan feel more understood. Less alone.
Ronan stood, and I realized the ferry had stopped moving. We were here.
“Come on.” He helped me up and put his arm around my waist. “Today will be fun. Have you been kayaking before?”
“Once,” I answered. Beth had taken me on a kayaking tour when we’d tagged along on one of Dad’s business trips to the Virgin Islands. But that wasn’t exactly the same as going with an Italian eyepiece like Ronan. “Are we just wearing our regular clothes?” I asked. I may not have gone to the beach much, but I at least knew the Pacific was a regular ice bath in April.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know a guy.”
“Of course you do,” I said. He seemed to be just as well connected as my father, but instead of movie financiers and acting talent, Ronan seemed to know all the important people. Like the owner of the rental shop we were approaching.
The middle-aged man with stringy, thinning hair slapped Ronan’s hand and patted his back. “What do you need, man?”
“Can you hook us up with a kayak and a couple suits?” Ronan asked easily, like he was letting his friend in on a secret.
“Sure thing.” The wrinkles around his friend’s eyes deepened as he grinned at me. “You must be a special girl to steal this one’s heart.”
I didn’t miss the blush on Ronan’s cheeks. No one had planned to steal anyone’s heart, but I found mine becoming Ronan’s with each day that passed, with each fact I learned about him.
The guy handed me a suit and led me to the small lean-to covered with a curtain where I could change. I easily took off my uniform and squeezed into the suit. It sucked tightly to each part of my body, and I couldn’t help but hope Ronan would take notice of my curves in this. I knew they looked good, especially with all the work I’d been putting in to stay healthy. Would seeing me up close like this help him make the move to kiss me on the lips? I ached to feel his mouth on mine, to discover what it would feel like to have his arms around me, exploring my body.
“Ready?” Ronan called.
I plucked at the suit and readjusted a spot around my waist. “Ready.”
The curtain whipped to the side, revealing Ronan in his wetsuit. It wasn’t completely on, the arms wrapped around his waist, revealing his muscled chest and toned abs.
While my jaw practically rested in the sand, his eyes hungrily took me in. The power of the wetsuit. He whistled low and said, “You look good.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “You think so?”
His hands easily slid around my waist and settled somewhere on my hips. “I know so.”
We were close now. Close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek, for the heat from his hands to radiate through my body. I only had to lift my hand an inch to press my palm to the swell of his abs. His skin was warm under my fingertips, his muscled firm.
He closed his eyes like he was trying to compose himself when all I wished was that he would give in.
He linked his fingers with mine, removing them from the plane of his stomach, and led me toward the shore where I could see his friend now, situating two kayaks he had pulled off one of the stands. One was bright yellow, and another was electric blue. Ronan released my hand and easily took hold of one of the kayaks, stepping into the water like it wasn't cold.
He held it and looked back at me. “Go ahead and get in.”
It was the equivalent of holding a door open, keeping my kayak steady, and I didn’t hate it. Still, nerves took over my body. He was strong, but I wasn't the smallest girl. What if he couldn’t steady it as I got in?
“It will be fine,” he said, as if sensing my concern.