Waves - Book #2 [completed]

8 ~ Jobbig

Jobbig
(Swedish)
noun
Anything that is difficult, annoying or tedious

He's standing there, proud and only wearing a pair of black board shorts. His entire upper body's exposed and glistening wet. Drops of salty water trickle down from the tips of his hair, trailing down his chest and stomach before disappearing into the waistband of his boardshorts. Some take a detour down the happy trail.

Mason is tall and broad with muscular arms, chest, abdomen and legs. There's nothing gangly or lanky about him. No wonder I felt like I hit a brick wall when I crushed against him the other day. He's not extremely defined like some of these anabolic drug induced body builders you see everywhere along the coasts of Eastern Australia. Everything looks natural, built with time, yet every muscle is visible, indenting his abs and pecs.

His chest glistens from the sun hitting his wet skin and soft swirls of hair over his chest. Both of his arms and parts of his chest are covered in countless interesting tattoos that I now pay attention to for the first time. He tried to tie his long hair back, but the elastic I gave him was long lost when he was washed off his board one too many times.

I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe my gaze lingers a little longer than it should have because it earns me a knowing smirk from Thor when he stares down at me.

Fuck, I really should stop calling him all these nicknames in my head before one accidently slips out.

Luckily someone calls my name from where I left my stuff at the beach and when my head snaps over there, I spy my favorite mother and daughter duo approaching us. Emma's determined to become a pro surfer and her mother, Sonya, supports her with her whole heart.

I give them a wave before walking towards them and shove my board into the sand halfway over there. "You're early," I greet them.

"School was boring." Emma shrugs, standing there in her long-sleeved sports bathing suit, looking like a pro already.

Since it's not my place to judge Sonya's parenting for picking her up from school early, I give her a smile just before her gaze snaps to something behind me - or rather someone. Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn pink instantly. She's always been professional, more mature than necessary for her young age of fifteen, but now she turns into a giddy, awkwardly shuffling teenager and her voice rises three octaves. "Oh. My. God! You're Mason Cartwright. Aaah!"

Sonya, who's been spreading out her usual blanket set-up to sit and read while I teach her daughter, now looks up and becomes as astonished as her daughter. She keeps her cool a lot better though.

"You know me?" Mason asks, surprised and coming to a stop next to me. Too close for my liking. What's up with that?

"Of course I know you." Emma jumps forward. "I'm your biggest fan." She proceeds to attack Mason with a hug he didn't see coming and looks very uncomfortable with as he stumbles back a few steps.