Not Another Summer Love Story

Chapter 8 - Want a Hand?

"Here I was thinking you were an all-knowing genius," I remarked sarcastically. Alastair and I were perched on our boards, left in peace as Logan and Noah paddled out to catch a wave which was hurdling quickly towards them. I'd be lying if I said I didn't cross my fingers beneath the water in the hopes of Logan being half drowned like I was.

"Well, maybe I underestimated how strong his tough-guy demeanor is to crack," he shrugged. His hair was slicked out of his face and his jaw bone was prominent. Surfing kind of suited him.

"So deal's off?" I asked hopefully.

"Would you really want it to be?" he asked in return.

I didn't answer, partly because I was aware of the tiny voice inside of me insisting this plan was going to be good for me, which I didn't exactly want to admit to him, and partly because there was a really good wave coming up and if I caught it now there was a chance I could run Logan over in the process.

It didn't take me long to pick up the art of surfing again. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed the feeling of gliding through the water, and the waves weren't big enough to be intimidating. But, as much as I was enjoying it, it was getting late. The last time I had seen the time on Noah's waterproof watch there was only an hour until my shift at the ice-creamery.

Riding the wave in as far as I could to the shallows, I paddled back into the shore. I figured Alastair could find his way back okay, and the gorillas would probably help him. When I was unlinking my ankle strap I noticed him successfully catching a wave, and couldn't help clapping from the shore. It had taken him some time, but he'd managed to stand up here and there, which was pretty impressive.

He spotted my figure and came to join me, panting slightly as water dripped off of his body. "Thought you were getting away that easily, did you?"

"Of course not, but I have a job. Some people have to work, you know?"

"Ah," he realised. "Do you want a lift?"

"You have a car?" This surprised me, considering he was here on holidays. But then I remembered the size of his house and decided it would be completely reasonable for the Sullivans to have some fancy car just for when they travelled here. In fact, they probably had a few of them. "You know its only like, just down to the esplanade."

"Well, it's gotta beat walking."

Unable to think of any reasonable excuse to reject his offer, I told him to pick me up at my house in twenty minutes. It was enough time to get home, rinse the salt off of my body and change into an outfit for work, which today involved a polka dot sky blue dress that Maisie had given me last year. As he'd assured, Alastair was perfectly on time as I stepped outside to leave.

"This afternoon was fun," he told me from the drivers seat as I climbed into his Mercedes. Somehow, it didn't surprise me that he drove something so posh.

"It was," I agreed. Then I took another look at him. "Oh, Jesus, you are so sunburnt!"

Alastair's face was tinged pink, his nose and cheeks particularly red. And I could see that the burn didn't stop there, the red traveled down his chest and probably further than the white v-neck shirt he was wearing revealed.

He shrugged, "It was going to happen sometime. You know, Englishman holidaying in Australia at the peak of Summer."

"Well it wouldn't happen if you'd thought to put on sunscreen."

"I would have, but I didn't get the chance to stop home. And I hardly expected that you would have helped rub it in for me." He smirked, taking his eyes off of the road momentarily to give me a wry look.