22
Jameson
“What if I get stung again, though?” Emma says, wrinkling her nose.
I’m carrying the surf boards as we hit the beach. It’s almost three weeks from the last time I tried to get Emma on a surf board. She tried putting it off yet again, but I wouldn’t have it.
I need to surf, and so here we are. I squint at Emma as we walk down the beach in the early morning light. She’s wearing a dark blue bikini and carrying her wet suit; with her dark hair and tiny waist, I think she looks like she could easily be a movie star.
I don’t tell her that, though. I don’t want her to start thinking about her appearance, so I just comfort her fears instead.
“You’ll be fine,” I say, hefting the boards. “You’re going to surf today. I’m going to surf today. And then we’ll f**k like two bunny rabbits
