Cocky Notes - Leesa Bow Page 0,44
as fast as the other even though we both know it’s temporary.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me in so many words.”
Dad folds his arms over his chest and gives me a look of disapproval. “What does he expect from you?”
“We’re only hanging out and having fun. We get on well together and are honest with each other. For now, it’s about taking it slow and getting to know each other.”
“I see.”
Even without looking at his expression, I know Dad doesn’t believe me.
“So, when are we having a family meal together?”
“Soon.”
“Good. Bernadette is coming for dinner tonight. I meant to tell you earlier. Do we have enough for her as well?”
I had two pieces of steak thawing on the bench. “Sure. I’ll get another steak out of the freezer. I did want to run something by you, though. Will Bernadette be around this weekend by any chance?”
Chapter Seventeen
MACY
On a sand dune between high grasses I stand beside Reef as he assesses the waves with a surfboard tucked under his arm. Piles of seaweed dot the golden sand. Driftwood is scattered amongst nests of shells. I’ve never thought about art and being creative, but now with Reef, I feel connected to the ocean, and my mind is already thinking what I can do with what I find on the beach.
“Do you want me to grab a chair from the tent for you to sit on?”
I shake my head. “I’ll watch you a bit from the shore, then collect a few shells.”
He takes my hand, and we step and slide together down the dune. The sand is hot and squeaky beneath our feet. Reef places a towel and bag containing water bottles and snacks on the flat sand, kisses my cheek, then runs toward the surf.
Mesmerised, I take in his physique as he runs. The swing of his arms, the muscles contracting in his back, the lightness in his step, it’s as though running is a superpower. The way his golden locks blow in the wind reminds me of last night when I took a selfie of our heads on the pillow—a contrast to my long, dark hair and my fair skin against his tanned, firm body, our bare legs tangled in the tent.
The tent.
I was grateful to wake up to no neighbours this morning. Reef reassured me this portion of the beach was difficult to access and not popular, but after what went down last night, I’m glad no one heard our moans of pleasure and how many times I screamed his name.
Before breakfast, he brought me down to the beach for a swim. I was glad for the cool saltwater to soothe tender bits because I know tonight will be more of the same.
Reef dives into a wave, and I watch him disappear for a few seconds before surfacing on his board. He paddles out deeper, and I can’t help the nerves and excitement of watching him surf.
He sits on his board and waits for the right wave. I witnessed him in action this morning after dawn, the glee in his eyes when connecting with the ocean—a relationship. Part of me wishes I also bonded with something with as much passion as Reef.
He paddles faster, and I spy an oncoming wave. He decides to take it, springing to his feet, arms wide. I imagine every part of him humming with adrenaline. The ride lasts seconds before he’s dumped. I keep watching until he surfaces, grabs his board, scrambles up on it, and paddles out again.
I wander closer to the shore and search the piles of shells, scattering pieces with my flip-flop to uncover the prettier ones. I collect a few in my hand along with some driftwood and take it back to our towels and continue to do more of the same for another hour.
I wave out to Reef, but he doesn’t see me. After stripping off my sarong, I wade into the water. I’m waist-deep before we make eye contact, and he paddles closer.
“My shoulders are burnt. I think I’ll go up and apply more sunscreen.”
“Do you want to have a shot at surfing first?”
“Hardly. I’m wearing a bikini.”
“Then, take it off.”
It was difficult enough to get into the black two-piece I purchased years ago and never wore. But Reef makes me feel sexy, and I desired to brave it with no one else around. Surfing, I’d have to have one hand on my breasts to support them.
“My balance isn’t good.”
“Give it a try even to kneel.”
“I wouldn’t be able