When I Was Yours(25)

She gives me a shy smile, touching a hand to her hair, as her cheeks turn pink. “Thanks. I haven’t seen your hair down either. You always have it tied back.”

Grinning, I pull the tie from my hair and shake my hair out. “How does it look?” I give her a cheeky smile.

“Good. Really good.”

The way she’s looking at me makes my shorts start to feel tight. I shift in my seat to rearrange the big fella.

Refocusing my attention, I say, “You didn’t have to wait out here. I would have come up to get you.”

“My dad and sister are still sleeping. I didn’t want to wake them. Anyway, it’s a nice morning to be outside.” She reaches up on her tiptoes, leaning against my door, and her fingers curl around the open window. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Morning,” I whisper. I slide my hand around the back of her head and guide her lips to mine.

She tastes like toothpaste and strawberries.

Fucking delicious.

Leaning back, she stares into my eyes. Hers are wide and innocent.

My heart starts to pound, and my cock is definitely paying attention. God, I want her innocence. I want to hide it from the rest of the world and keep it for myself.

I’m pretty sure Evie’s a virgin. I got that from the tentative way she kissed me last night. I’ve kissed a lot of girls, and I’m good at recognizing the inexperienced ones, not that I’ve ever f*cked a virgin. That’s something I wouldn’t ever do. I don’t want the responsibility of being a chick’s first time.

But Evie…the thought of being her first…f*ck yeah. I want to be her first…and last.

And listen to me.

Only one date, Gunner. You’re not even her boyfriend yet.

Yet?

“So, is this another car?” she asks, tapping a hand on the frame.

“It’s a rental. The McLaren’s not practical for getting my surfboard around, so I rented the truck. I could use Max’s truck, but I like to have my own. Hate relying on other people.”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s why I wish I could drive, so I wouldn’t have to catch the bus. I don’t mind riding the bus to work, but I hate the waiting around. That’s why I come to the beach for that hour—to kill time instead of sitting waiting for it.”

“Lucky me that you can’t drive.”

“Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for me catching the bus.”

“No, we’d have met. I would have found my way to you somehow.”

And I’m turning into a *-quoting fool. But honestly, I can’t seem to find the will to care about that around her.

As long as I’m making her smile the way she is right now, then I’m happy.

“So, you wanna get in my truck and go catch some waves? Or stay here and make out? Just so you know, I’m happy with either, but my vote does sway heavier with the second option.” I give her my best smile, the one that always gets me laid—not that I expect that to happen with Evie anytime soon.

“Surf.” She grins at me and then starts to make her way around the truck. “There will be plenty of time for making out later, but the waves won’t wait,” she adds, climbing into my truck.

She’s right even though I would happily ditch surfing to make out with her, which says a lot. I wouldn’t normally miss a wave for a girl, not even for a blow job.

“Can we stop by Grady’s on the way to the beach?” she asks. “My surfboard’s there.”

“Sure, but will it be open at this time?”

“No.” She starts buckling up. “But Grady’s house is behind the Shack, and me and the others who work at the Shack all leave our boards in his garage. Saves taking them home, especially with me riding the bus.”

“Will Grady be awake?”

She gives me a crazy look. “He’ll already be out surfing. He’s usually out there the second the sun starts rising.”

Putting the car into drive, I pull out of the apartment parking lot and head back toward the beach.

“So, I’m guessing you’re not from Malibu,” Evie says as I drive.

“What gave me away?” I smile.

“The fact I’ve never seen you around before.” She smiles back at me. “So, where is home?”

“Beverly Hills.” I glance at her.

I see a flicker in her eyes. If anything, it looks like discomfort, not the impressed look girls usually give when I tell them where I’m from.

I don’t want Evie to feel intimidated by the money I have—well, that my parents have—so I quickly change the subject. “So, you have a sister?” I ask, well aware that she’s never mentioned her mother.

“Yeah, Casey.” She smiles big, and I get the impression that Evie adores her sister. “She’s seven.”

“Big age gap.”

“Yeah, my folks struggled to have another baby after me. My mom had a few miscarriages, and then Casey came along. She was our miracle baby.” Her happiness fades a little. “She’s been sick though, but she’s on the mend now,” she adds, sounding a little brighter.

“What was wrong with her?” I reach my hand over, taking hold of hers, and I link our fingers together. The feeling is electric. Every time I touch her, the sensation increases. There is nothing like it.