Page 12 of After You Returned

Jolie and Etta nod in agreement.

I rub my hands together. “Let’s review ocean safety and wave selection before we get into the water.”

Jolie groans. “We’ve heard you lecture about ocean safety and wave selection every morning. I think we get it.”

I rest my hands on my hips. “I guess you already checked the weather this morning, then.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Checked the weather? You check the weather for us.”

“I won’t always be here. Today is your fifth and last lesson.”

Etta bats her eyelashes at me. “But you’ll be around here to help us if we need it.”

I bite back a groan. These ladies have been flirting with me since the first minute of the first lesson. My refusal to engage hasn’t deterred them one bit.

“I’m not always here,” I lie. I try to surf every morning before going to work. “And when you return home, you’ll need to check the weather on your own.”

Jolie giggles. “We live in Omaha. There’s not a whole lot of surfing in Nebraska.”

“We’re going home in two days,” Natalie adds. “You should join us for drinks at theBootleggerbar tonight.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I have no interest in having drinks with these women. Especially not atBootlegger,which is full of tourists – mostly college students celebrating Spring Break – this time of year. But I know better than to say no. They’ll badger me until I change my mind. I’ve danced this dance before.

“In the meantime, it’s time to surf.”

I summarize our last lessons about reading the waves and maintaining balance, and how to pop up on the board before I hand out the surfboards before we make our way into the ocean.

“We want to paddle past the impact zone. Who remembers what the impact zone is?” I ask as we begin to paddle.

“The breaking waves,” Natalie answers.

“Correct.” I nod in her direction as I continue to paddle. “We want to reach the line-up where we’ll wait for the unbroken waves.”

“I don’t know why we had to take surfing lessons during Spring Break,” Barbara mutters. “Everyone else is still sleeping off their hangovers, and we’re out here working hard.”

“You need to work on your upper body strength,” Carly says. “You barely made it through two strength training classes before you quit.”

“The class was at six in the morning. I’m surprised I lasted two classes.”

Carly rolls her eyes. “You act as if six is the middle of the night.”

She paddles through the waves with ease. Her upper body is well-developed. She obviously didn’t skip any of those strength training classes.

My body has no interest in Carly and her muscular physique. It’s far more interested in curvy bodies. One curvy body in particular – Hazel’s.

I need to stop obsessing over a woman who has no interest in me. Who runs away from every encounter with me. Who hates me.

The smuggler knows I’ve tried. I went toBootleggertwice this week but I couldn’t manage to drum up interest in any of the women who flirted with me. My cock has gone into hibernation and I have no idea when it’s going to wake up again.

I reach the line-up and wait for the five women to join me. Carly is first, while Barbara is last.

“All right, ladies. It’s time to show me what you’ve learned this week. I want you to choose a wave and try to ride it. Don’t be discouraged if you need a few tries before you manage it. Surfing is a brand-new skill, and like all skills, practice makes perfect.”

“I’m going first!” Carly shouts before paddling toward a wave. I watch as she pops up without any difficulties and rides the wave for a few seconds before crashing.

“One guess whose idea it was to do surfing lessons,” Barbara mutters. “I wanted to learn how to mix margaritas, but no, we’re in the ocean at the crack of dawn instead.”