He carried the board down to the sand and gave me a quick lesson on how to pop up using a rocking motion. He made it look easy – probably something to do with his well-developed upper body strength.
The heavy beginner’s board was covered in soft foam to help prevent injuries amongst the uninitiated, but it was also impregnated with sand and the palms of my hands soon began to feel sore.
“You’re getting it,” said Sebastian encouragingly. “Let’s try you on a few waves: I’ll push you onto them and tell you when to pop up.”
The waves in the cove were small and well ordered: perfect for learning on. I lay face down on the board and felt the cold water splash around me.
“Get ready! Paddle, paddle, paddle. Now!”
Sebastian pushed me onto a small wave and as the board began to tip down onto the green-water, I popped up, wobbled for a few feet then fell off sideways. I managed to close my mouth but felt seawater gush up my nose. My head broke water as I coughed and rubbed my eyes. My long hair hung like seaweed over my face.
Sebastian was laughing but he looked at me proudly.
“Wow, Caro! You just rode your first wave! That was awesome!”
He kissed my salty face and hugged me tightly as the water rippled around our waists.
“Try again!”
We spent another hour playing in the ocean and, by the end, I’d managed to ride a wave for several seconds and even put in a small turn.
Sebastian hadn’t got bored or shouted at me or shown any signs of impatience. I was slightly in shock, but elated, too.
“So, how do you like being a surfer dude?” he said, smiling at me proudly.
“I love it, but I’m exhausted. It’s almost as tiring as spending the night with you,” I teased him.
He laughed happily then sighed. “I’d like to do that again, but we can’t, can we? Not for a while.” He frowned and squinted at the sun. “I have to get to work soon: we’d better head back.”
We hadn’t planned the surf trip so I didn’t have a towel in the car. Instead we had to pull our clothes back on over damp, salty bodies and my hair dripped chilly drops of water down my shoulders.
It was easier for me to dress as I was wearing a skirt, but I enjoyed my private ogling as Sebastian pulled off his boxer briefs, only partially hidden by the car door and grabbed his jeans. I loved watching the flex and ripple of his muscles under his golden tan, the way his jeans dropped down from his waist to hang on his hips, and the way two tiny lines appeared between his eyebrows when he was concentrating on something.
He grinned as he saw me watching him and with deliberate slowness pulled his T-shirt over his damp chest, so the washed-out fabric clung to him.
I really wanted to pull it off him again but he had to get to work and I wanted to spend a couple of hours working on my next City Beat story.
I’d decided to write about what it was like for military families to move around the country from base to base. I had some experience of that and I knew that Donna had lived in at least three other states and, with Johan, had been stationed overseas twice already with the possibility of another stint in Germany on the horizon.
“Time to get back to the real world,” Sebastian said wistfully. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight?”
“I rather hope not,” I said truthfully.
Sebastian looked hurt.
“It’s too hard to act normal when you’re there,” I explained softly.
He nodded slowly. “I know what you mean… but I’d still like to see you.”
I sighed and shook my head.
“Well, can I come to your house tomorrow?”
“Sebastian, I don’t think so. You know what people are like around here: all it would take would be for you to be seen coming in or leaving. Or if someone came to the door because they’d seen my car in the driveway and I… we…”
He knew what I was saying and he knew as well as I did which risks were acceptable and which weren’t. We were making up the rules as we went along, but there were still rules.
“When can I see you?” he said sulkily.