Page 73 of Fall Apart

“Nope. You didn’t.”

He squints at me, clearly still groggy. “Then why are you up and so damn perky already?” I glare at him, arching an eyebrow.

He’s right. I’m definitely perky. I felt so bad about pushing him about skiing last night that when I got up to get more water in the middle of the night, an idea hit me. One that I’m super excited about.

“Just because I don’t like getting up early doesn’t mean I can’t. Now come on, I want you to come out and try something with me today.” He eyes me skeptically and I drop my head back, groaning. “And I promise it’s not skiing.”

“Fine.” He reaches up, grabbing my hips and running his thumbs under the waistband of my shorts, caressing my hip bones. “But if you want me to get up, you’re going to have to get off of me.”

He pushes his hips up into me and I can feel his hard length through his boxers and my shorts. A quiet gasp escapes my lips. I hop off of him, and grab his hand, pulling him out of bed. “Save that thought for later. Now come on, we need to get started.”

He wipes his face with his other hand and swings his legs over the side of the bed to sit up. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

I smirk back at him. “Nope, because it’s my idea. So you’re going to love it.”

Clay Chapmanin a wetsuit is sinfully unfair to look at. He only has it pulled up to his waist and his bare, chiseled abs and chest are on full display. My eyes shameless run from his shoulders to his tattooed pecs, following the thin trail of hair down his abs to the V just above the waist of the wetsuit.

This early in the morning, it’s a private display just for me on the sandy bank of the Deschutes River. We got out of the house before everyone else was up. I texted V that I was still hungover and was going to stay in for the day. She said no problem and they’ll see me at dinner. I’m just hoping she didn’t come up to my room to check on me after we left. And Clay, well, everyone already knows he wasn’t skiing and they would probably just assume he went out for a longer run this morning.

“Where the hell did you get wetsuits?” he asks, his deep voice still somewhere between irritated and confused about what we’re doing here.

“Jeez, I thought you were a morning person,” I tease, “and they’re TJ’s. He said we could use any of the gear when we got here, remember?”

He shakes his head and pulls the sleeves on before shimmying the rest of the way in. Already in my wetsuit, I walk over to him, and help him with this zipper.

“You look good in this.”

He glowers at me. “And why do I need this again?”

I smile back playfully and point over his shoulder. “Because we’re doing that.”

He looks over his shoulder, palming his face when he sees the surf park and the two rental surfboards already propped up against a boulder by the river’s edge.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I press my lips together, trying to hide my grin and the giggles welling up inside. I shake my head. “Nope. Not kidding at all. We’re both going to get out of our comfort zone today.”

He runs his fingers through his dark, inky hair before turning back to look at the river again. I walk up beside him, leaning my head against his bicep.

“I’m sorry I asked you to ski yesterday. I get that there’s baggage there. But I want to see you have fun on this trip. I want to see you give up a little control.” I grab his hand and start walking towards the river, pulling him with me. “Besides, you’re a world class athlete, right? Should be easy for you.”

His frown morphs into a wicked, almost boyish grin at my tease. “Want to make a bet?”

I almost immediately regret mydecision when it’s Clay’s turn. Did I think I actually had a chance to beat him in any sort of competition involving athleticism? No.

But I did want to see him enjoy himself and let go for once. That’s worth losing any bet, even if it involves naked morning yoga for a week. I’m pretty sure that's a win for both of us anyway.

My first attempt, if I could even call it that, was to surf the manmade waves in the sectioned off channel of the river. It did not end well. I instantly fell off the board, backwards into the cold water. Clay sprinted into the shallow water to make sure I was ok.

Now, I’m starting my second attempt, getting ready to stand up on the board.

“Come on, princess.” I look over at Clay sitting on a boulder at the edge of the water. He’s smirking and laughing at me, clearly enjoying watching me struggle. “Think about your prize when you win.” I’d be pissed at him if I wasn’t so glad to see this side of him, laughing and joking.

I toss my head back and groan, prompting another laugh from him. I try again, laying on the board before hopping up. A second passes and then another. I start to gain my footing and I even make a turn. Alright. For my first day trying this, I’m pleased with myself. This is sort of fun. I might want warmer water on the beach instead of central Oregon’s cold river water, but I would definitely try this again.

“There you go,” Clay says from his perch on the boulder.

I turn my head to smile at him, reaching up to wave back.

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