Chapter 2! I'm not a very experienced author, so please go easy on me:)

I hope you like this chapter! It's a lot longer too, thank God.


Mack groaned and buried herself deeper in her soft cocoon of blankets when the bright rays of sun poured in through her window. It was hot on her face, and she inwardly sighed with annoyance.

'How is it even possible to be this hot this early in the morning?'

She hugged the blue comforter tighter and curled up, trying to savor a few more blissful moments of slumber. The early bedtime really helped with her jet lag, but that didn't stop Mack from wanting to go back to dreamland.

In her dream, she was back east with her friends, enjoying the moderate temperature and listening as they talked about the passing cute boys. She didn't understand why they needed a boy in order to feel happy. She was perfectly fine living on her own and finding happiness without one. She could do whatever she wanted, especially without a guy's permission.

Anyways, back in her dream, the sun didn't shine as harshly in her eyes like the one was now, here in California. With a defeated moan, she sat up and rubbed her face.

A sudden delicious scent wafted to her nostrils, making Mack shut her eyes with pleasure at the heavenly smell.

'Yummy,' she thought to herself, smiling. 'Grandpa's breakfast is the best.'

A distant clang of pots alerted her and her brown eyes popped open and immediately narrowed.

Her grandfather had said breakfast would be ready for her, but he would be out in his workshop at dawn. He wouldn't be down in the kitchen, so then who was?

Cautiously, Mack crawled out of bed and slowly stepped into the hallway, pulling on her fuzzy slippers on the way. She bit her lip as she lined the wooden walls, feeling it behind her and walking slowly like a ninja.

She would surprise this intruder and hopefully scare them away with her nonexistent fighting skills.

With a shaky breath, she poked her head around the corner and peered vigilantly into the deliciously smelling kitchen.

'I swear, if this robber ate my breakfast I'm going to punch someone,' she thought menacingly.

The sight surprised her, for there was definitely not a robber in her kitchen.

There was a boy facing the stove, holding a spatula and flipping a couple blueberry pancakes in the air. She was absolutely at a loss of what to do. Who the hell was this guy?

Determined to go along with her plan, she sneaked into the room, eyes trained on the boy's bare back.

'Honestly! This guy didn't even bother putting on a shirt before breaking into the house!'

Her right slipper suddenly banged against the refrigerator next to her. Mack winced and cursed at herself in her mind.

The loud noise caused the intruder to spin around, spatula in mid-flip, and the pancake to fall to the floor with a resounding 'plop'.

With fumbling hands, Mack somehow found a pan lying on the counter next to her and held it up in defense.

"W-what are you doing here?" she stuttered, heart beating rapidly. She could take this guy, so there was no need to be so scared. Seriously, he only startled her. Well, that was what she told herself.

"Um, flipping pancakes?" the blonde boy answered, unsure, with a dark eyebrow quirked up in amusement. He eyed her 'weapon' with mild interest. "Who are you?"

"Get out of my house!" she snapped, ignoring his question. She waved the pan threateningly, hoping to ward him out of the house and to stop making breakfast.

What was wrong with this picture? Everything!

"Your house?" his brows popped up to his hairline, and he regarded her more thoroughly in confusion. Abruptly, understanding spread over his admittedly attractive features and he smiled widely. "Oh! You're John's granddaughter!"

Mack gaped at him, not knowing what to do. It was obvious he knew who her grandpa was, but here he was, in the house without her knowledge until now, flipping freaking pancakes!

"Oh, Mack, you're up!" her grandfather entered through the side door, smiling at her and Shirtless Boy. "Brady here offered to make breakfast since I had to fix up some boards earlier than usual."

Mack glanced back and forth between him and the grinning boy who was still holding the spatula. She hesitantly placed the pan back on the counter and stood stiffly.

"So, I'm guessing you guys met already?" he asked.

"Well, not exactly," Shirtless Boy chuckled, looking intently at Mack. She refused to meet his eye and glared at her feet. "She came in and threatened me with a frying pan."

"What?" her grandpa choked down laughter. "Mack, why?"

"I didn't know who he was!" she snapped back, flicking her head back up to glare at the blonde kid. "He was just suddenly in the kitchen making pancakes! What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know…say your name and ask politely why he was here," he answered with a booming laugh.

It was then that Mack realized how stupid this whole situation was. She definitely overreacted, and now she felt foolish.

With a clenched jaw, she turned and stormed back in her room, not wanting to see the intruder again.


"Mack, can I come in?" her grandfather knocked on her bedroom door. She glanced up from her position on her stomach, sprawled over her bed with slightly annoyed eyes.

"Yeah, Grandpa."

He entered, smiling down at her and shut the door behind him.

"So, I'm guessing you don't want any breakfast?" he chuckled, sitting beside her.

"Ha, yeah, no thanks," she rolled her eyes, crawling up to sit beside the older man. He patted her arm reassuringly.

"Sorry, about not warning you about Brady," he apologized; truly upset he made her mad. Quickly, all her annoyance melted away and she glanced up to face him.

"Shirtless Boy?" he laughed at her name for him. "Why was he here anyway?"

"Brady," he enunciated his real name before continuing "helps me out a lot at the shop. As for being shirtless, he surfs a great deal and tends to mostly walk around in his swimming trunks when he's by the beach."

Ah, so he's one of those surfer people she had passed on the way to the house yesterday. She thought back to him as he stood in the kitchen, and realized he was in fact, wearing a red and blue bathing suit.

"Still doesn't explain why he was making pancakes in here at," she checked the time on her cell phone, "seven in the morning."

"He was just being nice and offered to make some breakfast for you. He knew how excited I was at the news of you visiting," he laughed again. Mack was getting used to his warm laughter.

"Okay," she sighed, slumping on her back on the warm bed. She turned to her bag and pulled out a well-worn book.

"Why don't you go read that on the beach?" her Grandpa suggested, eyeing the novel in her hands. "It's really nice out."

"Outside?" she found herself glancing out the large window at the smattering of people already beginning to surf and relax.

"Yes, Mack," he huffed. "The beach is outside."

Glaring mockingly at his dry tone, she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Alright, I'll go out in a little bit."

Satisfied with her response, he stood up and walked out the door, most likely heading back to his surf shop.

Mack dropped her book back in her lap, looking at her open suitcase in distaste. She really needed to find a mall and get more suitable clothes for this weather.

She stood up and kneeled in front of it with the intent of finally putting everything away.

It took a good twenty minutes, but with everything in its proper place, she could find some clothes to wear just for today.

As she stood in front of her large mirror over her white dresser, she groaned out loud in horror.

Shirtless Boy had seen her in her thin tank top and cow print pajama shorts. Not to mention her cat slippers!

Shaking off embarrassment, she changed into a plain purple bikini that was modest enough and slipped on a pair of frayed denim shorts. Packing some sunscreen, sunglasses, a towel, and her precious book, she deemed herself ready and headed out the door.

Luckily, Shirtless Boy was long gone by then, and the house was empty. For some reason, she wasn't sure if she was happy or not about that…

'I could use a tan anyways,' she thought to herself as she stared disdainfully at the sandy ground out the side door. With a deep breath, she walked out the door and onto the beach, already feeling the sand between her toes.

Ugh, why was that so annoying?

She walked a ways down the beach until she found a reasonable spot right next to the rising water line. Shaking the towel to spread evenly over the lumpy sand, she found a comfortable position and relaxed with her book in her hand.

The water tickled her toes as it rose with the tide, touching the tip of her towel before falling back down with a 'whoosh'.

The sound was soothing, and Mack nearly found she was tuning out the noise of the passing people. Deep in her novel, everything felt so nice and relaxing, and suddenly it actually felt like she could enjoy this vacation.

A body suddenly fell into her from behind, knocking her book forward and into the receding surf. An 'oof' escaped her mouth and she whirled around to give the person a piece of her mind for running into her.

"Shirtless Boy?" she gasped, and immediately placed a hand over her gaping mouth.

"I am so sorry," he laughed, and it seemed he didn't hear the embarrassing nickname she had called him, or chose to ignore it. "Didn't see you there."

He held out a hand for her, but she glared at it scornfully before standing up herself. "Watch where you're going."

"Sorry, my friend over there," he pointed to a few guys behind her, "threw a bomb with this football."

He held up said football and smiled charmingly at her with strong white teeth.

"My book!" Mack gasped, spinning around to see her novel floating in the blue water near the shore. She darted toward it, feeling the cold ocean rush under her legs.

Luckily, she reached the book before it got too far, for she was only up to her knees. Picking up the soaked book with two fingers, she nearly cried when she noticed the running ink and barely-held-together cover. It was completely ruined.

"Hey, you okay?" the kid called from his spot next to her towel. He was still standing there, much to Mack's annoyance. Why did her keep showing up in her life?!

She held back her sob with only trembling lips and marched back to her towel. The boy watched her with interest as she packed everything and began walking back to the house.

"Hey, wait up!" he followed behind her. "I didn't mean to make you leave. You can still sit there, you know."

She ignored him, stomping down the shore and avoiding any people that got in her way. Shirtless Boy still persisted.

"Is it about the book?" he asked. "It's just a stupid book, you know."

"It is not just a 'stupid book'!" Mack spun around, jamming a finger into his admittedly hard chest. This time he was finally wearing a rash guard, but the nickname seemed to stick since she couldn't remember his real one. "Now please go away!"

Before she could turn back around, the blonde boy grabbed her wrist in front of his chest and held tight. She glared into his wide, honey brown eyes.

"Mack, I didn't mean to make you so upset," he pleaded, holding her despite her struggles to get away.

"It's McKenzie," she retorted. "Only my friends and family call me Mack."

"I'm sorry."

She softened at the tone of his last apology. He sounded truly upset and sorry for what had happened, even though it wasn't necessarily his fault. It was an accident after all, but Mack was still pretty distraught.

If he knew her grandfather so well, he would understand her next comment.

"It was my mother's," she answered simply, before turning out of his slackened grip and walking the rest of the way to the house.


Mack sat on her bed and stared at the ruined book in her hands. She felt tears prick her eyes when she thought back to when her mom gave it to her.

"It's my favorite book, Mack," she had explained with a bright smile. "You'll keep it forever, right?"

"Right!" her eleven-year-old self exclaimed animatedly.

Mack thought her mother would be so mad at her for ruining her favorite book if she was still alive. With a sniff, she turned when a knock came at her door.

She stood up and wiped all traces of tears from her face. Luckily, she wasn't too much of an obvious crier, so her grandfather probably wouldn't even notice she was upset at all.

"Yeah, Grandpa?" she answered the door with a smile.

"Here, kiddo," he handed her something. "Brady told me he found it on the beach and figured you left it there."

She blinked in surprise at the object in her hands. Before she could respond, her grandfather wished her a good night and walked back down the hall to his own bedroom.

In her hands was the same book her mother had given her.

Mack glanced back and forth between the brand new book in her hands and the ruined one on her blankets, as if the events at the beach today hadn't even happened and it was all in her imagination.

No, there were still two books, and she gawked at the shiny one held between her stiff fingers.

Curious, she turned the front cover and saw black, messy writing scrawled over the back of it.

To McKenzie: I'm sorry about ruining your book. I thought this could make up for it. PS- I'm also sorry I make horrible first impressions. From Brady.

Mack gazed down at the writing in surprise, thinking about the blonde nuisance she realized she had gotten all wrong.

He wasn't as horrible as she previously thought, and Mack was certain to thank him the next day.


Yay! Chapter 2 done! So, Mack's finally warming up to the idea of being friends with Brady, and isn't he so sweet? I can't wait for the actual surfing lessons and lovey moments (don't worry, they're coming!)

Review please? :)