Page 171 of Better When Shared
“Hey, for what it’s worth, I think she’s a lucky woman.” He grinned at me. “I can see that you really care. Of course, you don’t have to change yourself for her, you’re sexy as you are.”
The word ‘sexy’ from his lips, the second time he’d said it this morning, made heat bloom in my core. “I want to do something impressive. For her.”
“Like standing up on a surfboard?”
“Exactly.” I blinked, remembering I’d been trying to cancel my lesson. “Not necessarily that. Why do I have a feeling you’re manipulating me now?”
He grinned. “I mean…you’re not going to impress her by backing out of your first lesson in being an adventurous guy, are you?”
“I haven’t backed out yet. But I’m… considering my options.”
“What if we take baby steps? Check out the surfboards. Try on a wetsuit. See what you think of that.” He stood, offering me his hand, and pulled me to my feet.
“Why do you care so much if I surf or not, anyway? I already paid you.”
“Simple. Rich assholes who pay a fortune for a week of my time deserve a week of my time. Otherwise, they tend to find loopholes in my refund policy. So come on, let’s make this adventure loophole-free.” There was no stopping him. He was already walking towards his truck. I tossed my empty tea cup in a trash can and jogged to catch up to him.
“I think you have a passion for teaching people to surf,” I said.
He turned, walking backwards for a moment. He winked. “Maybe a little.”
“Takes a lot of passion to build a company like yours, I’d say.”
“That it does.” There was something about Makai’s easy confidence and the way he spoke about surfing that made me forget all of my reasons for not trying. It wasn’t rational. Imogen wouldn’t care if I surfed or did something else, as long as I showed her I could get out of my comfort zone.
“So you’ll try it?” Makai asked as we reached his truck.
“Not what I said.”
“Not with your words, but your face agrees with me.” He grinned, moving to the roof rack where several surfboards werestrapped down. “Let me show you through the equipment. That’s harmless, right? You’ll just be looking.”
“This feels like another trick.”
He popped off the strap on the rack on the back of his truck, then slid one of the surfboards free. It was longer and wider than the others.
“This is what we call a foamie,” he explained, patting the board affectionately. “Soft top, extra volume, stable as hell. Perfect for beginners.”
I approached cautiously, running my hand over the surface. It felt nothing like I’d expected. “It’s... not as intimidating as I thought.”
“That’s the idea.” He pulled down another board, this one shorter and sleeker, with a glossy finish and hard surface. “This is mine. But you don’t need to graduate to a shortboard until you’re ready.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There will be no graduating.”
He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Fine, fine. But I’ve got a feeling about you, Hamish. You might surprise yourself.”
The way he said my name in his slow, relaxed American accent sent an odd little thrill through me. I stepped back, shaking it off. “So what happens now?”
“Now we try on wetsuits. To see if you think it’ll keep you warm, not to surf in. Unless you’re scared of a little neoprene.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Prove it.” He tossed the wetsuit at me, and I caught it reflexively, surprised at how heavy the fabric felt. “Strip down to your swim trunks and we’ll see if this fits.”
I hesitated, looking around for a dressing room.
“I’ll go first,” Makai offered, setting his own wetsuit on the truck’s tailgate. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing the kind of torso that belonged on fitness magazine covers—lean but defined, with a clear six-pack tapering down to a narrow waist, leading my eyes lower, to the bulge beneath the fabric of his boardshorts.
I’d had a gay porn phase in my teen years, but never acted on those desires, writing them off as teenage hormones, not as a true attraction to men. Makai was the first person to make me wonder if I’d been wrong. Not that I’d act on any sort of attraction. I loved my wife.
