Blocked (Boston Terriers Hockey #3) - Jacob Chance Page 0,14

head snaps in his direction.

I shrug. “It’s just a little chilly.” Gripping my board, I climb on. Lying on my stomach, I start paddling, my hands cupping their way through the water.

In my periphery I notice Shaw doing the same.

When we’ve progressed far enough out we straddle our boards. Sitting, we watch the waves, the salty, tangy scent of the ocean teasing our nostrils. The coast of New England is not known for having large waves except during storms, and then it’s usually too rough to surf. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, the day after the storms, the surf is still impressive. This particular beach has some of the best swells I’ve seen.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” Shaw breaks the silence.

“I know. I love this beach. It’s never too crowded. Have you been here before?”

He shakes his head. “No. Your brother and I usually head up to Hampton Beach or down the cape.”

“Right. I remember.” Hampton is well known and a place that a lot of the younger crowd flocks to. But not me. I prefer less populated beaches where I can relax and not have people crowded all around me. I like to listen to the sound of the waves and read a good book.

I squint off into the distance as the sun’s bright rays reflect painfully into my light blue eyes. It’s funny how I’ve never been invited on any of their beach excursions. I guess I’m only good enough when there’s a party Marshall needs to attend.

Shaw lies on his board, turning toward the shore, and paddles as fast as he can. I watch as he pops up onto his feet in one cat-like motion. Knees bent, his feet are solidly positioned in place. He doesn’t lose his balance for a second as his board is propelled into shore.

While I’m enjoying watching him, my head absentmindedly tics from side to side in a motion of awe as I admire his natural athleticism. Shaw’s one of those annoying people who’s good at all sports. He’d deny it, but it’s true.

With each year that passes, I’ve watched him excel at everything he does. He’s even a good student. It doesn’t seem fair that one boy should be blessed with all that talent, good looks, and brains too.

Removing my focus from Shaw, I look toward the approaching waves and wait for the right one. Lying on my stomach, the board is cold against my skin as I paddle toward shore. My wave rapidly approaches, and I say a quick prayer that I won’t embarrass myself in front of Shaw. Maneuvering successfully to my feet, although not as gracefully as I’d like, I bend my knees and let my muscle memory kick in. I’ve got enough experience on a surfboard to decently ride a wave in. I just can’t let myself overthink everything.

Shaw’s waiting on the sand when I hop off into the shallow water and lean over to grab my board.

“Nice ride, Maddie.” He smiles his approval.

My stomach flutters as waves of attraction roll through. “Thanks. Want to keep going?” I tip my head toward the endless expanse of blue-green.

“Absolutely.”

“So, have you talked to Marshall since he left?” Shaw asks, reclining back on his elbows.

Lying on my back, I place a hand above my eyes like a visor and glance over at his sharp profile. “I haven’t, but he called my parents last night. Did you hear from him?”

“Yeah. We texted some.”

“You didn’t mention our plans, did you?” I ask, the smallest sliver of hope in my voice. I don’t know if I want him to tell my brother, because we both know he’ll overreact. But if he did mention it to him, then maybe whatever this is means something to him.

He turns his head, looking down at me. “No. Besides, I didn’t know what we were doing.”

“If you talk to him later, are you going to mention hanging out with me?”

He thoughtfully rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “I’m not going to tell him. He’d be pissed.”

“You’d think he’d be happy that I’m with you instead of some jerk-off.”

“Yeah, he should be, but he’s a hothead. He’s going to react first and think later.”

I hear his unspoken message. Enjoy today, Maddie, because whatever this is has an expiration date. Closing my eyes, I let my hand fall back to my side.

I hear the sound of Shaw opening the cooler.

“What have we got here?” he questions. “Did you make turkey sandwiches?” He sounds excited.

“I did. There are potato chips