“Anyway, I’m bailing ’cause I’m fucking starving. All the sex works up an appetite, which you would know, if you’d gotten laid lately.”
I flip him off.
I got laid a few days ago, and he knows it. Hot lifeguard who works on Zuma Beach. We were down there, surfing, and she was cute. After I finished surfing, I fucked her in her tower in the middle of her shift. Fortunately, no one needed saving at the time.
“You want me to bring you any food back?” Max asks, taking a step back inside the house.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get something later.”
“Bye, Adam,” Darcy says in an annoying singsong voice.
God, I hope he doesn’t bring her back with him.
“Later.” I lift my chin at her before turning back to Rock Girl.
She’s still sitting there, sketching away. I watch as she puts her pencil down on the pad and tilts her head back toward the sky, soaking the last of the sun up.
She looks so peaceful and so damn pretty.
“Gunner?”
I turn back to the sound of Max’s voice. “Yeah?”
“Do me a favor. Just go ask Evie out before you totally lose your man card and quite possibly get arrested for stalking. I really don’t wanna have to come bail your ass out of jail.”
“Fuck you.” I laugh as I grab an empty beer can from the patio table, left out from our drinking session last night, and throw it at him.
Max ducks, the can just missing him.
Then, I realize what he just said. “Evie?”
His lips lift into a knowing smile. “Yeah. That’s her name, which you would already know if you’d manned the fuck up and talked to her the first time you saw her.” He jerks his chin in her direction. “Just put us both out of our misery and go talk to her.” He raps his knuckles on the doorframe before disappearing.
Why is he so keen on me talking to Evie?
Evie.
I let her name roll around my mind. It’s pretty, really pretty.
Adam and Evie. Like Adam and Eve. In the Garden of Eden—or the Bed of Adam—fucking like animals.
Seriously, what is wrong with me? I’m imagining having sex with this girl, and I haven’t even spoken to her.
I can’t believe Max spoke to her first, and he got her name.
Fucker.
Okay, this is just stupid. I need to just go over there and speak to her.
That’s it. I’m going to do it.
I’ll go for a run on the beach, and while I’m there, I’ll strike up a conversation with her. If I don’t, Max will only torment me about it. And then, he might possibly ask her out himself.
She’s just a girl, Gunner. You’ve talked to plenty of pretty girls before.
But the difference is, I never wanted to know anything about those other girls. Each conversation was for one reason only—the end game.
But this one, I think I might actually want to get to know her—and not just know the color of her panties.
I make a quick change into a pair of running shorts and a tank, and then I pull on my running shoes. I tie my hair back, so it’s out of the way while I’m running. Then, I grab my water bottle and fill it up.
Before leaving, I make a quick check out back to make sure she’s still there.
Yep, she’s there—and yep, I’m still as lame as ever.
Heading out the front door, I jog along the path on the highway, so I can come onto the beach via the walkway.
I don’t want to come out from the back of the house, as it’s not far enough away from where she’s sitting. This way, I’ll be coming toward her for a good period of time, so if I stop to take a break, it won’t look so weird.
When did I start overthinking things? And just exactly when did I lose my balls?
Apparently, on the day I saw a pretty blonde girl sitting up on a rock.
I jog up the street for a few minutes and then take the path off to the walkway to take me to the beach. It brings me out about three hundred yards away from Evie.
Game time, Gunner.
Feet hitting the sand, I begin jogging toward her.
The closer I get, the faster my heart starts to beat. And it has nothing to do with the exercise because I’ve barely even begun running.
It’s because of her.
What is it about this girl that has me in all kinds of knots? How can I feel so nervous over a girl I’ve never even spoken to?
She hasn’t noticed me yet. I keep my eyes on her throughout my approach.
She has the tip of the pencil pressed to her lower lip as she stares down at her sketchpad, a frown marring her forehead.
Not that far from her now, I slow my pace, coming to a stop a few feet away from her, under the pretense that I need to stop to catch my breath.
Facing the ocean, I take a drink of water from my bottle.
I slide a glance in her direction.
She still isn’t looking at me.
And just as I think it, she looks straight at me, her eyes meeting mine. I freeze.
Holy fuck, she’s stunning.
Way prettier than I first thought. My initial take on her did not do her justice because, up close, she’s beautiful. And I know beauty. I’ve been surrounded by it my whole life.
But her face…nothing compares.
She has the most amazing eyes. Captivating. They’re the color of whiskey, huge and shaped like almonds, and they are set in the most perfect face I have ever seen. Heart-shaped with a cute button nose and full lips.
In this moment, her face has literally become the center of my universe. I can’t stop staring at her.