Oh dear. Yes, sorry for the week-long hiatus. I ran out of beta'd chapters, and trust me, you don't want unbetad mess.
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. SaltyBoy belongs to me.
Eight
"Just a little bit further."
The salt water swirls around my hips, each lap of the waves making me gasp. How on earth is it so hot outside, yet so freakin' cold in the water? I take a big step forward, shrieking as something soft and slimy touches my calf.
Fucking seaweed.
Rosie is a few feet in front of me, Riles out a little further, sitting on his board watching.
"Come on, Bella!" he yells as a wave rolls under his board, lifting him up and down smoothly. I hold my breath as it nears me, my arms flying in the air as the water laps up around my boobs.
"It's fucking freezing!"
Rosie laughs. "It's nice once you're in for a bit. Just put your head under!"
Flapping my hands around above my head, I bob around in the water from foot to foot, trying to get away from the seaweed. I've never been any deeper than this, and every time something touches my leg I freak out, looking for sharks and jellyfish and stone fish and every other sea-dwelling harbinger of death I've read about.
Rosie swims toward me, her hair floating in the water behind her as she ducks under a wave. She's like a real life version of Ariel, minus the tail. Whether on her board or swimming, she's powerful but graceful at the same time, looking more comfortable here than she does anywhere else.
"Come on," she says reaching for my hand.
Squealing quietly, I reach for her, moving forward until suddenly the sand seems to drop away and I'm chin deep in water. Of course, I let out an embarrassingly loud shriek, copping a mouth full of salt water in the process. I can hear Riley laughing as Rosie appears beside me.
"You okay?" she chuckles. "I forgot there's a drop in the sand bar right there."
Pumping my legs to keep myself afloat, I nod. "I just had a fucking heart attack, Rosie, but yeah."
Riley's board appears over the next wave, his arms paddling at its sides. "You good?"
"Yeah."
We tread water for a few minutes, my teeth chattering loudly, but when something decidedly fishy brushes up against me, I bail out. Rose follows me, and we're both laughing loudly by the time I reach the shallow water. I feel like such a princess, freaking out over a tiny fish. As we wade out of the waist deep water, I make a pact to myself to stop being such a baby. Hundreds of people, children included, swim at this beach every day, why can't I? Of course, as I make that promise to myself, a huge wave crashes over Rose and I, and I get dunked from behind, sending me face-first into the water. When I emerge, coughing and spluttering, Rose is laughing even harder, her face pink from exertion.
"Don't laugh! I could have died!"
She cackles, clutching her stomach.
I pout, wading to where the water just hits my knees. "Could have got trapped in a rip and carried out to sea never to be seen again."
"Nice stack, Swan."
Aflame with embarrassment, I turn to see Edward splashing into the water, his board tucked under his arm, wetsuit clinging to every toned muscle in his body.
"Shut up!" I reply, splashing him. "I wasn't ready."
He splashes me back, smiling. "Riles out there already?" he asks Rosie. She nods, and they dive into surf-speak - which is like Klingon to me. As he's talking to Rose, Edward's eyes keep drifting back to me over her shoulder. I feel weird standing there while they talk about breaklines and A-frames, but he just keeps looking at me, and I'm not sure what to do with my hands as they hang there, limp at my side. I try to keep up with the conversation, but apart from the fact that I don't know what they're talking about, I can't concentrate on anything when Edward is looking at me like he is; all smirky-smirk and bright sea-blue eyes, probably remembering our almost-not-kiss.
Two teenagers bound into the surf a few metres away, boogie boards out in front of them as they dive for the waves, the foam boards skidding across the water. It looks like so much fun, the way the water catches the board and propels it forward all the way up the beach. Surfing is one thing, but boogie boarding looks like something I might actually be able to master without, a) drowning, or b) making a complete ass of myself.
"So anyway, I'll catch you round, yeah?" Edward's voice catches my attention again, and when I turn he's looking at me, grinning stupidly.
"Um, yeah, cool."
Smooth.
He brushes past startlingly close, so close I can almost feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"Nice bathers," he says quietly as he passes, his eyes slipping up and down my body once before he turns for the surf.
"Weird," I whisper, trying to keep a lid on my fluttering stomach.
"Oh, shit!" gasps Rose as she reaches over and pulls my bikini top over, covering me up. "You must have slipped a nip when you got dumped."
Realisation dawns on me and my entire body flushes. "You mean I've been standing there in front of Edward with my nipple hanging out the whole time?"
She cringes, nodding.
I take a slow, deep breath, exhaling. "No wonder he was looking at me weird."
I'm absolutely mortified, but at the same time I almost want to laugh. He almost, not-quite kisses me and I flash him my nipple. Payback's a bitch.
"Don't stress, babe. It's probably the only nip Edward's seen in yonks, he won't know what to do with himself."
"Ugh. He's going to tell the boys and they're never going to let me live it down."
"Fuck the boys," says Rosie as we flop down onto our sun-warmed towels. "You've just filled Edward's spank-bank for months; he'll be keeping that shit to himself."
We both break into giggles again, and I'm grateful for Rosie's distraction as the embarrassment of my wardrobe malfunction ebbs away.
"Maybe you need a new bikini though," she says, tightening the knot of my bathers behind my neck. "Something to keep those little raisins covered."
"Hey!" I cover my boobs with my hands. "They're not raisins – they're…just…" I look down at my less than ample breasts, "Yeah, they're like bee-stings, right?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Girl, if I could get away with those little string bikinis I would. Embrace your tiny titties."
"Maybe I'll ask Edward what he thinks, since he's basically seen them."
Rosie laughs. "He's probably out there trying to hide a raging boner right now."
I don't know why I thought shopping with Aunt Jessie would be a good idea. I'm a twenty-four year old girl, and I can't shop the way she does. She's like the fucking Terminator of malls; she just keeps going and going, and I don't have the molten metal around to make her stop. By the end of the morning my feet are aching and my hands are sore from carrying all my bags.
"We'll just try one more shop," she says, trying to placate me. "Jetty Surf will have something you like."
Oh yeah, the other downfall of shopping; not finding what you want. Every pair of bathers I've picked up have frills or beads, or some ridiculous top that flaps around like two deflated ball bags over my boobs. I just want plain bathers, something to cover my chest and ass without making me look like a six-year-old. And of course, Jetty Surf doesn't have anything I like either. Although, by the time Jessie has tried on eighty-five different dresses in sixty different colours, I'm just ready to get the fuck away from her.
Finally, we pile our stuff into the car and head home, where I plan to stomp around and sulk about my lack of luck in the bather's department.
But no.
"Why are we stopping?"
No! No stopping! I want to go home!
"Just try Aerial Surf, five minutes, I promise."
I contemplate how long it would take me to drag Aunt Jessie's lifeless body across the road to the main beach, but decide there are too many witnesses around, and I'm too pretty to go to jail.
Groaning, I opening the car door. "Fine."
Aerial Surf is Clearwater's biggest surf store, and sits on the main street overlooking the beach. I've seen it a heap, been past a few times, checked out the clothes in the window, but never actually been in. I flick through a rack of dresses, trying to hide from Jessie as she digs through a table of discounted winter jumpers. There's something about the store that seems more casual than the others we've been in today. The walls are covered with surf posters and memorabilia, trophies and banners from the surf lifesaving club, framed photos and broken surfboards. And almost immediately I notice that there isn't an annoying sales girl in my face, bugging me about sizes or sales, or buy one get one half price on this rack only. I look around suspiciously, noticing a few other people browsing, but no sales people to be found.
A roar of laughter and cheers rises up from somewhere in the store and I decide to have a sticky to find out what's going on.
Behind the long, glass-topped front desk are all the staff, leaning against the counter, watching a surfing video on one of the flat screen TV's. And in the centre, with his arms crossed over his chest, a white t-shirt straining across his broad shoulders – is Edward.
Making sure my nipples are secured in my top, I stroll over.
"Working hard, or hardly working?"
He turns, and smiles brightly, his eyes flickering to my chest for a split second. When I give him the finger, he realises he's been caught and starts laughing, holding his hands up in defence. "Sorry."
"You ass!" I slap him on the arm with my purse. "I didn't know you worked here."
Explains all the surf brand t-shirts, I guess.
He shrugs. "Just when they need help." Still grinning, because let's face it, the guy can't seem to do anything else, he leans forward, his elbows on the counter. "What are you doing? Shopping?"
I nod, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at Jessie.
Edward looks around and winces. "Ooh, ouch. She's a handful your Aunt Jessie."
"A handful!" I lean my hip against the desk. "She keeps poking her head in while I'm getting changed. The woman has serious boundary issues."
"Tell me about it. Who do you think fitted her for a wetsuit?"
Oh, gross. Mental images of Jessie in a skin-tight wetsuit.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes. It was..." Edward shudders dramatically. "Hey, you don't need a wetsuit fitted do you? Cos I've got time." He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
"No. I just need regular bathers. Preferably something without ruffles, that actually covers my ass and keeps my boobs in."
Edward opens his mouth to make a smart comment, but my raised brow stops him, and he closes it with a snap.
I sigh, frustrated.
"Ugh, okay," moans Edward. "Come on."
He takes my hand over the counter and leads me to the back of the store into a staff only area. I stop short, my hand still in his.
"I'm not pashing you in a store room, Edward."
He rolls his eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Swan, you'd do it in a heartbeat." This time it's his turn to cut off my smart remark. "But, that's not what we're here for."
Opening the door, he flicks on a light and begins rummaging through boxes. "Here," he says, pointing to a huge box. "This is all the new stuff. Have a dig through if you want, see if there's something you like."
"What? Really? Are you allowed to do that?"
"That's the perks of owning the store."
My eyebrows almost fall off the top of my head. "You own this place?"
He shrugs. "My Dad does, I just help out."
"Oh."
" Just give me a yell if you need help with fitting, or getting your clothes off," he says. "I'd be happy to help."
It's my turn to smirk. "I bet you're pretty good at getting girls' clothes off."
"I've done it a time or two," he deadpans.
He stands there, texting on his phone while I bend over to dig through a box of new season bathers.
"Stop looking at my ass."
"I'm not looking at your ass."
"Whatever, I can feel you looking me."
"I can't help it. You've got such pretty stems!"
"Stems?" I chuckle. "Is this store room in a time warp? Is it 1960?"
"Whatever, you need to learn to take a compliment, woman."
"Woman!" I toss a bikini top at him and he catches it, holding it to his chest.
"Nah, not really my colour."
We both laugh as I snatch it back. "Just hold it while I find the bottoms, idiot."
"Nice choice," he says, eying the piece appreciatively.
I'm glad my head is stuck half way in a box so he can't see my face almost split in two from my smile. Moments like this are half the reason I'm so attracted to Edward. He's good looking, yes, but he's also one of the sweetest, kindest, most loyal people I've met. Watching him and the boys interact, I can tell he would do anything for those guys, no matter how big or small. Need a hand moving house? Edward will help. Need to borrow fifty bucks? Edward will lend it to you. Need a pair of bathers because you're a picky bitch with tiny boobs? Edward will let you into the staff room so you can rummage around a box of brand new bathers. It's not often you find someone who is as genuine as he is, and every day I get to see more and more of him, every day liking what I see more.
"Done?" he asks.
I nod, holding up my lovely new bathers.
"You don't want help trying them on?" he asks, holding out his hands like he's about to grab my boobs.
With a laugh, I step back. "No, they'll fit just fine, thank you."
"Well," he says shaking his head wryly. "We have a no returns policy, so it's your call."
"If they don't fit I'll just have to come back and bug you some more then," I reply, smiling.
He holds the door open for me and turns the light off in the storeroom. "Sounds good to me."
*Yonks - ages/a long time
*A "sticky" - short for "A sticky beak" - meaning either someone who doesn't mind their own business, or, "having a sticky" which means having a look around
* Pashing - kissing
* Seaweed - I fucking hate it. I do.
Thank you to Tiff for the quick beta, and to Meg - wherever you are. And to Thimbles and Ink for the support. xx
Thank you also to everyone reading, and for those of you dropping me a review :)