Delicate Scars

Chapter Ten

Tyler hounds me barely two minutes after my shift. I watch him as he jogs over. Droplets of water still cling to his bare skin. His hair glistens in the sunlight like a buttercup in the middle of a rainstorm. The freckles littering his chest are already darker than the last time I saw them, and a pair of navy-blue shorts hang low on his waist. His muscles bunch with every step but I don't look at them- not for long anyway. The genuine smile that breaks out across his face as he closes the distance is the focus of my gaze. I can't take my eyes off it.

"Phoenix, there you are. I was wondering when I'd see you again," he says, breathless.

"Well, you found me. Now please don't come any closer. I'm not in the mood to get soaked again."

My cheeks heat at the thought of the other night. Our bodies pressed against each other. His hand cupping mine. The words that still play over and over again in my head. A broken record I don't want to turn off.

I'm glad you came.

He grins mischievously. My eyes widen and my instincts take over as I start backing away from him, until I hit a wall.

"Too bad. I'm teaching you how to surf."

His arms wrap around my thighs, and he lifts me without warning, throwing me over his shoulder with ease. I gasp and pound my fists against his back. Only partly wanting him to put me down.

"You're what?" I shriek.

"Come on, Phoenix." We hit the sand, but he still doesn't release me, "you can't live in a beachside town and not know how to ride the waves. It's a rite of passage."

The blood starts rushing to my head. All I can see is the judging faces of passersby bobbing as he walks. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. It makes me want to spew up the contents of my lunch.

"Rite of passage my ass. Put me down right now or I swear I'll make you regret ever coming up to me that day on the pier."

"Okay."

In the split second it takes me to process his agreement, his hands unwind themselves from my thighs and he bends over, dropping me in the water. I barely have time to hold my breath before my head dunks beneath the surface. His laughter is a distant echo. Even with my eyes squeezed shut, I see red.

I break the surface and gasp for air. Coughing up a lung has never filled me with so much rage.

"You asshole," I growl.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down with all my strength. He holds his breath, expecting my attack before I pull him beneath the surface. I lock my arms and push his head further under, muscles burning from the effort. He clutches my wrists with ease and pulls them down, imprisoning them between his long fingers when he gets to his feet. His shoulders are still shaking from laughter.

"What is wrong with you?" I spit, gritting my teeth impossibly hard.

"I had to get you in the water."

"And you didn't think it would've been easier to just ask me?" I yell.

He eyes my wrists caught between his hands. The white shirt clinging to my chest that's already turning sheer. The proximity of our bodies. "This way's more fun."

"For you, maybe!"

He laughs even harder.

I huff. Jaw tensed. Shoulders bunched. My legs push me forward, ripping my wrists out of his grasp, as I wade through the water. My clothes grow heavier when I emerge onto dry land. If it wasn't for the belt secured around my waist, my jeans would fall.