Sandbridge Box Set

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Scooter banged on Andy’s door; the dog woofed from inside, startled. Usually Scooter didn’t bother to wake Andy; Trick got Andy out of bed well before his shift started. And unlike Jeff, Andy had some work ethic that made him get out of bed without constant reminders. But today…

Scooter leaned his board against the rail and fidgeted.

The door cracked open a few seconds later, the chain still latched. Just big city caution, or something learned from hard experience? Andy huffed when he saw Scooter and sagged a little. “What is it? Everything okay?”

Scooter grinned, wide. “We’ve got storm surge and high tide,” he crowed. “Come on, come on. You got swim trunks, right?”

Andy blinked at him, that slow, wide-eyed blink that meant he was having to process something a little more than usual. “Uh. Yeah, I think. What’s—” His gaze flicked down, back up. “Okay, swimming, yeah. Give me a minute to change.”

Scooter leaned against the rail, leg jiggling impatiently. The waves on the east coast were usually mild, three to four feet at the most, but when rain was pushing its way up from the Outer Banks, driving wind with it, they could get up to six or seven footers. With the tide rolling in, it’d be a free-for-all. Only the surf-driven tourists would be out; the clouds offshore were fierce and darkly threatening.

Kat pulled up in her little commuter car, the boards strapped to the roof with bungee cords. They looked absurdly long in comparison to the car. Jason pried himself out of the tiny car like a clown at the circus. Honestly, Scooter didn’t know how the man stuffed his whole leg into that footwell.

The door opened again to reveal Andy in dark blue swim trunks, with Trick on his leash. “We really had to wake up early for—” He stopped, staring at Scooter’s board. “Oh. Surfing. I, um. Never did that before.”

“It’s not too hard—you can swim, right? The waves are pretty gentle, even with surge. You can ride with Kat, if you want. She’s got enough balance for six normal people,” Scooter said. Oh, God, it was hard not to stare; Andy was compact and f*****g fit. The muscles in his arms stood out, practically lined in golden morning light.

“I can keep myself from drowning, anyway,” Andy said. He looked past Scooter at the dark, frothy surf, and took a breath as if steeling himself. “Okay, sure. Why not. What’s the worst that could happen?” Trick was already trying to pull him down the stairs toward the beach.

The inlet just beyond the S-turn was the best place for local surfing. A small group of kids was already there, taking turns with two battered boards, one green, one purple. As soon as the Dockside crew hit the beach, the kids turned. “Kat, it’s Ekaterina,” one of the girls squealed, excited.

Kat’s board was a custom job, bright yellow with a tribal-style cat on it. She tugged on a pair of neoprene foot covers, showing off her matching ankle tattoo.

“Go on, babe,” Jason said, admiring her in her tight black tankini. “Show Andy how it’s done.”

Kat was an expert surfer. She didn’t talk about it much, but she’d grown up with it on the shores of the Black Sea. She did like to talk about the first time she’d gone surfing in the States—her fellow grad students had been assholes who’d assumed she couldn’t possibly know how and had practically tried to drown her to prove their superiority—and she’d pretty much showed them all up. She flashed the cheering teens a grin and paddled out with quick strokes.

Scooter came up behind Andy, and oh, God, he almost lost the thread there, because he’d seen Andy’s nicely formed backside in baggy jeans and loose, worn sweat pants, but the way the trunks clung to that perfectly round bubble butt was just…Nnnngh. Stop it, stop it. Scooter bit his thumb, hard, using the pain to ground himself, and then took a few more steps forward so he wasn’t tempted to just stand there and gawk like an i***t. Or worse, touch, because his hand itched to run down Andy’s back.

He made himself focus on the water. Kat got herself angled to the wave, pushed up and then she was riding, clean, knees bent, practically dancing along the barrel.

“Huh,” Andy said. “This is going to be one of those things that someone else makes look easy and it turns out to be incredibly hard, isn’t it?” But he started gamely, if slowly, walking toward the water.

Jason cheered for his girl, whooping and jumping around like an i***t. Trick danced around in the sand, excited by Jason’s enthusiasm, barking wildly and snapping at the tossed-up sand. Scooter envied the hell out of Jason some days. What Jason and Kat had…Scooter would kill for it. Or, well, maybe maim for it. Someone he didn’t like. Just a little bit.

He caught up with Andy. “Here, ride with me the first time. Kat’ll go on for a while, she’s a wave hog.” He pushed the board out and climbed on. He held out a hand to help Andy climb up and get situated in front of him. “Paddle, that way.” He scooped a great handful of seawater, pushing them out into the surging waves.

Andy wobbled a little as they paddled, getting a feel for the board’s balance, no worse than any other beginner. He didn’t seem particularly nervous, at least.

They moved toward the swell and Scooter leaned forward to talk into Andy’s ear. “You can sit, if you want. Hold onto the sides of the board and I’ll take you through the barrel a few times. Like Lilo & Stitch.”

If Andy said anything, Scooter didn’t hear it, but Andy’s shoulders shook against Scooter’s chest as he laughed. He nodded, and took hold of the board. He wriggled in place, getting himself seated.

Scooter tried not to think about the way Andy was pressed back against him, warm and trusting. Focus on the waves, he reminded himself.

The next good wave that approached, Scooter popped into a squat, hands down on the board. The position had him hovering even closer to Andy’s back and shoulders, close enough that he could watch individual rivulets of sea water dripping down Andy’s back. f**k. He was not going to be able to surf well if he sprung wood. Not to mention it’d be obvious as all get out under his swim trunks. s**t s**t shi—And there came the wave, no time to think now.

He straightened, leaned back. Andy was extra weight on the board’s nose, dragging them at a sharper angle than Scooter was used to, but then it was all instinct, keeping the board upright and moving. Scooter flexed his knees and pushed them harder toward the crest and then zipped along the smooth curl. He kept his mouth shut—it was always tempting to let loose with a war cry, but that was a great way to choke on a mouthful of ocean and seaweed.

It was a lesson that Andy was going to learn fairly shortly if he didn’t stop laughing like a loon, but Scooter couldn’t quite tell him to stop, it was such a warm and happy sound.

He hoped to hell that Andy had a good grip, slid back and pushed his weight until the board spun in a graceful half-circle, riding up through the crest and back the other way, making a zig-zag toward the shore. That was where first timers usually lost it. Going straight was easy. Turning was a b***h. But Andy just leaned with him as if they’d practiced together for years. Scooter punched the air in triumph, sliding down the glassy wave. He got to the end of the second run and that was probably enough for now; other people were waiting their turn. The inlet was too narrow for multiple riders at a time. “Jump off!” He checked his tether, then dove off into the side of the wave, going down until the current no longer battered him.

He touched the sandy ocean floor and shot back up, following the black line of his tether. He threw an arm over his board and got eyes on Andy.

Andy had already surfaced and was treading water, grinning fit to burst. “Okay, that was great,” he said. He glanced back toward the shore, where a lanky teenager was already starting to swim out. “Taking turns?”

Scooter nodded. He spat out a mouthful of water, the salt stinging the inside of his mouth a little. “This is the best spot, but it’s small,” he said, paddling over. “Come on, Jason’s gonna go after this kid.” He jerked a chin at Jason, who was holding their big red-and-white striped board, which meant he and Kat were going to show off. “You don’t want to miss that.”

Jason and Kat, who’d once gone on a wave-chaser vacation and rolled double-overheads, when the curl was twice as high as Jason, could ride tandem like a pro team. Kat liked to say it was winters in the ex-Soviet Union that had taught her how. They got to shore just as Jason was cresting, and with a few slick movements, Kat climbed up his legs and got balanced on his shoulders, riding Jason like a bar-room mechanical bull.

“Holy s**t,” Andy breathed, eyes locked on the pair. “You really weren’t kidding about the showing off.”

A skinny black girl with her hair tucked under a swim cap wandered over to them. “Scooter, why you gotta bring them ‘round? Always makes it a letdown for the rest of us.” She was grinning though, and punched him in the arm lightly at the end of her complaint.

“Pfft,” Scooter snorted. Ugh. His nose was running already; side effect of surfing, and it was damned unattractive. If he stayed out too long, he’d get a bloody nose. “Who do you think rousted me before dawn? Hey, Andy, this is Raneisha Collins. Her mom runs the candy store down the way, the one with those chocolate-covered coffee beans? Raneisha, this is Andy, my new employee.”

Andy offered Raneisha a hand, eyeing her appraisingly. “Student?” he guessed.

“Kemps Landing Magnet School, math and engineering,” she said, proud of herself. And she should be; Raneisha was brilliant. She shook Andy’s hand and then took a very obvious step to one side, eyeing him up and down. “Heard about you.” Scooter restrained himself from rolling his eyes; of course Andy was gossip fodder. There weren’t that many newcomers to Sandbridge, but the fact that the women in town were all talking about his ass made Scooter a little possessive and defensive and…admittedly, a bit jealous, too.

Andy seemed to take it in stride, though. “Whatever you heard,” he said solemnly, “it’s all true.”

“I’m up,” Raneisha said, grabbing a board and heading into the waves.

“You want to try standing for a second run?” Scooter gave in to temptation and put an arm around Andy’s shoulders, stippled with water and running gooseflesh as the wind picked up. The storm was gonna be a rager when it came in. They probably ought not stay out too long; Dockside would need to be battened down.

“Sure, I can try,” Andy said, accepting the challenge with a wild grin. “If you don’t mind me toppling us over more or less immediately.”

They watched two more sets go out; Ryan was pretty good, but his friend Thomas wiped out almost immediately. He got cheerfully razzed as he dragged himself back to shore and flipped off a handful of pre-teen girls, red-faced and furious.

“C’mon,” Scooter said, picking up his board again. This time, Andy paddled vigorously, in time with Scooter’s strokes, and they were on the wave in a few quick movements. Scooter crested, got to his feet, and then held out a hand to Andy, keeping his knees loose and toes curled down tight. “I gotcha!” he promised, raising his voice to be heard over the surf.

Scooter put one hand on Andy’s hip to steady him as he got clumsily to his feet. Standing up was tough, the first few times, and Andy was going slow, which actually made it worse. The end of the wave was coming up, and if Andy didn’t hurry, they were gonna get stuffed.

Sure enough, Scooter had to attempt to turn or they were going to run out of wave, but Andy wasn’t set yet and the second Scooter shifted his weight, Andy overbalanced and fell right off the board, his startled “f**k!” swallowed by the water.

Scooter followed Andy offside as the board flipped under the weight shift. He got a huge gulp of water when the fin smacked him in the shoulder. He rolled with it and tangled the tether by accident. He shimmied, kicking with both legs together to get surfaced. He came up right under the next wave and rolled again before finally getting his bearings. He dragged the board to him by the tether, coughing and spluttering and waiting for a dark head to break the surface.

It took longer than he liked, but he finally spotted Andy, further inland than he’d expected—without the board’s drag, the wave had carried him along. Well, better toward shore than away. Andy was flailing and coughing, but had stopped by the time Scooter reached him. “You okay?”

“Mostly,” Andy croaked. “Sorry.”

“It takes practice,” Scooter said encouragingly. “And sometimes you still get stuffed.” He hummed the Wipeout theme as they staggered back onto the beach, which earned him a high five from Ryan and a very black glare from Thomas. Scooter raised an eyebrow and Thomas muttered something that sounded vaguely derogatory and stomped off. Ryan shrugged and followed his best friend, awkwardly apologetic.

Jason and Kat went again, this time on separate boards, weaving in and out among the waves like dancers. They’d been practicing that for a while and still, toward the second turn, Kat scraped over the tail of Jason’s board and had to take the dive. Jason’s mocking laugh could be heard all the way from shore as he skipped back the other way. Kat popped out of the water and yelled something in Ukrainian that probably sounded vaguely nuclear to the audience, but which Scooter recognized as ingredients for borscht, so it was all for show. When Kat was really mad, she didn’t yell at all.

By the time they came in, the storm was looming close. Andy seemed disappointed when Scooter jerked his head and they started heading back up the road toward Dockside. “That’s it?”

“The kids’ll stay out a little longer,” Scooter said wistfully, “but we’ve got to do storm prep before the rain hits.”

“Oh. Yeah, I…kinda forgot about that.”

Kat skipped up on Andy’s other side and started critiquing his form and trying to explain the proper way to pop to his feet. Scooter snorted, but Andy didn’t seem bothered. The two of them talked all the way back to the restaurant. Scooter was glad that they seemed to be becoming friends; Kat was a good person to have in your corner when the chips were down, and maybe Andy would actually open up to her about whatever it was he was running from.

Also, if Scooter’d had to focus on that bright, happy smile and the way the morning light snuck around the gathering clouds apparently for the sole purpose of making Andy’s skin glow, then Scooter would have gone mad, so he was grateful to Kat for that, too.

Just as they were turning into the Dockside’s lot, Kat interrupted herself to say, “Oh, Andy, Scooter perhaps forgot to tell you. When we go surfing, he lets Jason and me use his shower, and he washes off in the apartment. It’s faster. That’s not a problem for you, right?”

Scooter was going to kill her.