LoveLines by S. Walden

Author:S. Walden [Walden, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
Amazon: B00J7ZCN8G
Barnesnoble: B00J7ZCN8G
Goodreads: 20636361
Publisher: S. Walden
Published: 2014-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

I hid my wetsuit under yoga pants and an old, ratty sweatshirt. I hid my surfboard under a pile of blankets in the back of my Honda. Reece never suspected a thing, and I couldn’t wait to see his face when I stripped.

“Bailey, I don’t know about this,” Reece said on the drive into Wrightsville Beach. Police were already evacuating the area, and I was stopped by one particularly aggressive cop.

“Ma’am, you need to turn around.”

“I live here!” I lied. “And I’m not going anywhere without my dog!”

The officer grunted and waved me through.

“Free country,” I mumbled. “If we wanna die, that’s our prerogative.”

“Did you just lie to a cop?” Reece asked.

I shrugged.

“Oh my God, Bailey, you lied to a cop!”

“Reece, take the stick outta your ass,” I replied.

We both fell silent. Reece was the first to laugh. I followed right after.

“Who are you?” he chuckled.

“I’ve no idea!” I giggled. “It’s your fault. You’re turning me into this non-rule follower.”

“Hey, don’t blame it on me, sister,” Reece replied.

I pulled into an empty space in the parking lot next to Johnny Mercer’s Pier.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Reece said.

We climbed out of the car and waved to Christopher, who was sitting on a bench waiting for us.

“I always come out to see Christopher surf before a hurricane. Don’t you know it’s the best time to go?”

“He’s crazy!” Reece replied.

“Why? ‘Cause I’m a black surfer?” Christopher asked, walking toward us. His golden eyes sparkled with mischief. I could tell he was about to have an awesome surfing session. “Why you gotta be so stereotypical, huh Reece? Just ‘cause I’m black don’t mean I can’t surf. What the hell else am I supposed to do in this white town?”

I grinned.

“No, man, I wasn’t saying you being a black surfer was crazy,” Reece said. “Only that you’re surfing right before a hurricane.”

“Best waves, right Bailey?” Christopher asked.

I nodded and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. I couldn’t even try to describe the sound that escaped Reece’s lips.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

I reached up and pinched his cheek before stripping my pants and tossing my clothes in the back seat. I pulled out my pink and aqua custom Channel Island board and waggled my eyebrows at Reece.

“You surf?” he asked.

“Every now and again. It’s been a little while, but I couldn’t pass up hurricane waves,” I said.

Didn’t seem to compute.

“You surf?” he asked again.

“I learned when I was eight. My psychologist said it was good for me—that it would teach me that I couldn’t control every aspect of my life. Especially if a shark attacked.” I winked. He didn’t laugh. Not one of my better jokes.

“You surf?”

“Oh my God,” Christopher muttered. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He led the way down the beach, far away from the pier. (No one wants to slam against pilings.) The wind had definitely picked up since yesterday. Holly was expected to make landfall some time tomorrow afternoon, and Reece and I were already well-prepared. We boarded my windows, and Reece even helped Soledad’s husband prepare their home.

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