Page 15 of Out in the Surf

He shook his head, his lips curled in amusement. “I’ve saved like a miser since high school and a couple of years ago, I invested my money. So far, so good.”

“I’m very impressed.”

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s not official yet. Just a dream. But in the meantime, I get to live here, so I really can’t complain.”

“It’s a good dream,” I agreed softly.

“What’s yours?”

“Surviving another day on a surfboard. If I can do that without embarrassing myself again, even better.”

Cal smiled reassuringly. “That won’t be a problem. You ready to do this?”

I raised my coffee in a mock toast and sighed theatrically. “Ready as ever.”

“Let’s get you a wetsuit and a board. You can leave your wallet and keys in my apartment if you want. That way you don’t have to fuss with a locker and paperwork.”

“Sounds good.”

“C’mon.” He patted my shoulder as he eased by me.

I followed him to his apartment and set my coffee mug on the counter next to his. He said something about grabbing the sunscreen in his bedroom and meeting me downstairs.

And somewhere in this ho-hum cordial dance, I realized my window of opportunity was closing. A morning spent second-guessing my every move sounded like hell. It was better to get any awkward discussions out of the way once and for all. If he wasn’t going to address the elephant in the room, I would.

“Wait.” I grabbed Cal’s wrist before he walked away. “Are we going to talk about last night, or are we going to pretend it didn’t happen? Either way is cool by me. Just curious. Okay, that’s a lie. I’d prefer to get this conversation over with. This is already weird enough as it is.”

Cal didn’t shake me off or break eye contact. His gaze was focused and steady, without a trace of agitation or discomfort. I got the feeling he was choosing his words carefully and maybe trying to find a nice way to tell me not to get any ideas. After all, a kiss was just a kiss. And a drunken kiss in the dark wasn’t worth mentioning.

Except neither of us had been drunk last night. I remembered everything, I mused, staring at his mouth.

Cal rubbed his scruffy jaw thoughtfully. “We can talk now.”

“Okay, cool. You start.”

He chuckled and pointed at his chest. “Why me?”

“’Cause you kissed me. And you’re supposed to be straight. So, either that kiss was meant to satisfy a bi-curious moment, or maybe you were evening out the score so I wouldn’t feel weird about taking another surf lesson. Or you were punishing me for—”

“Punishing you?” Cal intercepted.

“Yeah, for being an idiot.”

“Wow. That’s kind of a stretch,” he huffed. “You’re overthinking this, big-time.”

“I excel at overthinking. If overthinking were an Olympic sport, I’d hold the world record in every category possible.” I paced to the window and back, pushing my fingers through my hair. “What am I gonna have for breakfast? I dunno, let me overthink this. Why did the Uber driver give me a funny look last night? I probably had something in my teeth. But I should overthink it, just in case.”

Cal busted up laughing. “You’re kind of funny.”

“I am. I’m fucking hysterical. Usually by accident. I’m the guy who waltzes into a club giving high fives and trips the second I get on the dance floor—or hits on a guy whose boyfriend suddenly appears and turns out to be a former professional linebacker. Or the guy who—”

He held up his hand, his eyes creased with ready humor. “I get it. You’re a train wreck.”

I gave a self-deprecating sigh. “That part started when I moved to SoCal, though. I used to be much smoother.”

“So, this is California’s fault?”

“Hell, yes. But I love it here, so I’m gonna have to figure out how to cope with being unintentionally entertaining until I find my groove again.”