Page 6 of Britta & the Beach Boy
“Did she? She told me you’d probably be surfing somewhere.” I sip my coffee to be polite, feeling more comfortable now that he’s referred to me as afriend.
As I sip, his eyes sparkle with laughter, and I think he may be teasing me with this coffee.
“Treating me to something exotic today.” I tip the cup to him and take another sip.
He cracks a smile, and he turns to his friend. “Told you she’d hate it.”
“You’re the whinger who told me to grab something else ifAnnie’swas too busy,” the friend says. “What else is there besides Starbucks? You set me up.”
“Let me guess.” I look in Dex’s direction and raise an eyebrow. “You figured bad coffee was better than no coffee? At least for an American?”
The friend barks a laugh and steps around Dex. “You’re right, mate, she’s funny. I’m Archie.” He lifts his chin in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
Something flickers in Dex’s eyes that takes me back to summer and the heat that simmered between us. “I’ll bring the good stufflater. We’re in a bit of a rush this morning if I’m going to catch any waves today.”
“That’s right. You’ve got ajob.” If my hands weren’t full, I’d make air quotes aroundjob, but Dex knows what I mean.
“Best job in the world.” His smile fills the room, briefly pushing away the sadness I still wake up to every morning since Mom died.
The sadness that brought me here because, after four months, I still can’t seem to move on. It doesn’t escape me I’ve felt better in these last few minutes than I have in all these months—which means Georgia might have been right about California sunshine being what I needed. Dex is his own sort of California sunshine.
I take another sip of my coffee, and for a few seconds, Dex and I grin at each other. Then I turn to Archie. “Are you a surfer, too? Or do you have to wear a shirt to work?”
Archie shoots Dex a look, and I worry I’ve offended him, but Dex jumps in. “He used to surf, but now he’s my manager and my coach. I even pay him to do it.”
Archie’s face holds a question that I can’t figure out before it passes, and his grin comes back quickly. “Doesn’t pay me enough, but I let it slide, because I’m a good guy, and he wouldn’t survive without me.”
“That’s mostly true,” Dex suddenly grows serious. “I wouldn’t be the surfer I am without Archie.”
“Well, I’d love to watch you both sometime if you ever surf in California. Georgia says you’re always traveling somewhere else to surf, so maybe you’re bored with California waves?” I let my gaze linger on Dex, wondering for the first time why he spends most of his time in California instead of Australia if he’s always leaving, while also hoping he’s going to be around for a while. Six weeks, ideally.
Dex tips his head and gives me a curious look. “California has some good waves,” he says in a voice dry enough to make me think he’s understating the fact.
“Some of the best in the world.” Archie adds with a gentle scoff. “This dingbat,” he wags his head toward Dex. “Is about to surf one of them.”
“This morning? Just one wave? Seems like you go to a lot of work to only surf one wave.” My eyes dart to Archie back to Dex.
Archie’s green eyes cloud with confusion. “He’ll surf more than one wave. Probably a few sets.”
Dex barks a laugh. “We mean thetype, not the number, when we say wave. Every surf spot has a unique type of wave based on the wind and seafloor, but I surf as many good waves as I can catch no matter the location or what type of wave I’m on.” Dex answers, his lips pulling into a smile. “I forget you don’t speak surf.”
I raise my eyebrows. The air snaps between us, throwing off more heat than the griddle back atBritta’s.“I guess you’ll have to show me what you mean.”
“You can come watch right now. We’re headed to a beach a few minutes south.” Dex’s eyes don’t leave mine, and I almost say yes.
But I shake my head instead. “Stella’s got plans for us today…if she ever gets up.” As much as I’d like to have a beach day with Dex, Stella already told me she’s found somewhere wehaveto go today. “Tomorrow, maybe?”
Dex shakes his head slowly. “I’ve got a competition that starts tomorrow.”
“A competition? I thought surfers were too laid back to compete.”
Dex laughs. “Professional surfers are a competitive bunch.”
His voice has the dry-as-burned-toast tone I’ve learned he uses when he’s understating something. But when his eyes travelover me, sizing me up, I get the sense I’ve underestimated what being a professional surfer means.
“It’s no biggie,” Dex says in that same tone. “But if you wanna watch, you can.”
“That’snota good idea,” Archie says, stepping closer to Dex, telegraphing a warning to me that’s loud and clear. He doesn’t want me there.
