A Desire So Deadly (A Need So Beautiful #2.5)(2)

“Time to go,” I tell Ezra, grabbing his hand as I get to my feet.

“Or . . .” he says, stepping in to wrap his arms around my waist, “you could ditch, and we’ll lie around on the beach all day.”

I brush his blond hair to the side, gazing into his eyes as I consider his offer. A splash of cold water covers my bare feet, snapping me out of my trance. I look down and see the surfboard hovering in the water a moment, half-covered in sand. “I can’t stomach any more failure,” I say, glancing back at Ezra. “I’m leaving this on the beach.”

Ezra bends to grab the surfboard anyway, ignoring the same empty threat I’ve been making for weeks. He tucks the board under his arm. It looks short next to his tall frame, even though I nearly killed myself dragging it down here from the car.

Ezra’s sandals scrape along the concrete as we start toward my mom’s Jeep. The parking lot is still deserted, which was why I chose this beach in the first place. The real waves (and the real surfers) are on the other side of town.

Ezra tosses the board through the open back window and slaps his hands together to shake off the sand. Although I need to get going, I’m not quite ready to tear myself away from him, so I rest against the car, and he makes his way over. He grins, effortlessly handsome in that sun-kissed California way. When he stops in front of me, I lean into him.

He smells like soap and ocean, and I kiss him slowly, drawing out the moment as long as I can. But eventually I feel the buzz of his phone once again and pull back. I have to go.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Ezra asks, kissing me quickly before backing away. I hear a bus pull up behind us, a loud whoosh of air breaking through the otherwise quiet morning. Ezra holds up his hand, and I watch as he turns to head in the direction of his house a few blocks away.

“Excuse me.”

Startled, I turn to find a girl standing next to me. She’s model tall (at least compared to me), with porcelain skin and black hair in a sideswept pixie cut. Her long black dress and eyebrow ring make her look completely out of place in our laid-back beach town.

“Sorry if I scared you,” she says, looking around helplessly. “I’m pretty lost.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right town?” I ask with a smile. A stranger in Deseo is pretty rare; this isn’t Southern California—or even northern. The last person to move here was Francesca Roberts in the third grade, and we still call her the new girl.

The stranger looks me over, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yep,” she says, returning my smile. “Middle of nowhere, California, right?”

“Officially. It’s on our welcome sign. So where are you headed?”

The girl glances down at a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. “The Cordova Apartments? I don’t think I got off at the right stop.”

“It’s across town but too far to walk. Do you want a ride? I’m headed in that direction anyway.”

“Seriously? That would be awesome. I didn’t think it would be so hot near the ocean. I’m Lucy, by the way.” I notice her glance at my wet suit.

“I’m Claire,” I say, starting around the Jeep. “And in case you’re wondering, I’m not actually a surfer.”

She laughs. “Interesting choice in apparel, then.”

I like Lucy already. To be honest, I’m surprised by our instant rapport, but then again, it’s not like I’ve had a lot of experience meeting new people. I’ve had the same best friend since kindergarten.

“I’m trying to win a bet,” I explain to Lucy as we climb into the car. “Last year my friend and I wagered a latte on whether I could get up on the board for one full ride. Haven’t gotten there yet, but I will. The fact that we’ve bought each other coffee a . . . a million times since the bet was made isn’t the point. I hate to lose.”

“That reminds me of something my little sister would do”—she smiles to herself—“although most of her bets are wagered on pizza.” Lucy turns to me. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I do,” I say, starting the car and then crossing the parking lot to the street. “Three brothers—although two of them are away at college. Now it’s just me and River.”

Lucy’s eyes are a cloudy shade of midnight blue, but as the corner of her mouth lifts in a grin, the color seems to deepen. “There’s nothing like family,” she says softly. “Blood’s thicker than water and all that.”

“My mom likes to say that blood is thicker than cream cheese because, although inaccurate, that expression fits in better with our lifestyle. My parents own a bakery.”

She laughs. “Nice. Free pastries for life, right?”

“Almost. We earn the free food. All the Becks kids have to work at the Costas Bakery for a while. My dad says it builds character.” I look over at Lucy. “You should come by one morning. I’ll hook you up with a latte. No bet required.”

Lucy smiles broadly. “That sounds great.”

I hit the blinker with my thumb, turning into the roundabout of the apartment complex. When I stop in front of the adobe-style office, I glance at the time, and my leg begins to bob with impatience. I hate being late for class.

“Thanks so much for this, Claire,” Lucy says, unbuckling her seat belt. Her voice is velvety and deep, endearing. I feel a sudden burst of nostalgia, although I can’t quite place why. Either way, I’m honest when I tell Lucy it was my pleasure and that I hope to see her later.