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By the Book (Meant to Be #2)(68)

Author:Jasmine Guillory

He looked down at the table. “That’s a good idea,” he finally said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I usually don’t even have this with me.” He unlocked the phone and scrolled through it. “I don’t know what to say to her, though.”

Izzy smiled at him. “Yes you do.”

He looked at her, then down at his phone. “Yeah. I guess I do.” He typed quickly with his thumbs. “There.” He lifted his head, a terrified look on his face. “It’s done.”

She smiled at him. “Good. Also, you should probably have my number, just in case.”

He pushed his phone across the table to her. “Good idea.”

She added her number to his phone and pushed the phone back to him. He stared at his phone for a second, and his eyes widened.

“What if she doesn’t text me back?”

The age-old question.

“I think we need to fill the next few hours with something that makes it impossible for you to check your phone compulsively.” She stood up. “Do you want to teach me to surf some more?”

His face relaxed. “Absolutely.”

As they drove toward the beach, she looked out at the horizon. It was still overcast and drizzly and windier than the day before. It didn’t feel like the best day for surfing. Especially when she remembered how hard it had been the last time, when the weather was much calmer.

“Maybe we should just…sit on the beach, instead of surfing?”

Beau laughed. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this so easily. You said surfing, we’re going to surf today.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and his voice got more serious. “The surf isn’t too high for you today; I checked. And I’ll be right there. But if you really don’t want to go, we don’t have to. Whatever you want to do.”

Did she still trust him, after the past few days? She shouldn’t. She still felt wary of him, she knew that. And it shouldn’t reassure her when he said he’d be right there. But it did.

“It’s okay,” she said. “We can try it, at least.”

They got down to the beach and went back to the surf shop. The same blond woman was there from last time, and she greeted them both.

“Beau and Izzy, hey!”

How did she remember their names?

Beau smiled at her. “Hi, Dottie. Can we get that same surfboard and wet suit, or similar, for Isabelle again today?”

She nodded. “Sure thing.”

She turned to go through the wet suits, and Izzy nudged Beau.

“It’s okay for you to call me Izzy,” she said.

He turned and looked down at her. “Thank you. I will.” He smiled. “But I like Isabelle, you know. I like the sound of it.”

He was so close to her they were almost touching.

“I do, too,” she said.

“Okay, great!” Izzy jumped at the sound of Dottie’s voice. “Here’s your wetsuit, Iz.” Sure, okay, that seemed like a very beach town surf shop kind of nickname. She could live with it. “You know where the changing room is.”

They went down to the water, Beau carrying the surfboard again. He dropped it down onto the sand.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s have you lie down on it, like before, and then practice sliding yourself up into that same stance I taught you last time. Do you remember how to do that?”

Oh no. Why had she suggested surfing?

“Yes, I remember. My body hurts just at the memory.”

Beau made Izzy practice lying down on the surfboard and then sliding into a standing position over and over again on the sand. Finally, he said she was ready to go into the water. At first, he had her pull herself up so she was kneeling on the board. Once she’d done that successfully a few times—which took a while—he told her to try to stand.

As soon as she tried, she fell off.

And then again.

And again.

The fourth time, though, she finally got herself into a standing position for a few seconds, before a wave came and she lost her balance and fell off again. When she surfaced, though, they were both grinning.

“That was great!” Beau said. “Now let’s do it again.”

They stayed in the water for a long time. After she managed to stand up two more times, they walked together onto the beach. Izzy collapsed onto the sand, and Beau sat down next to her. The sky and the water were still just as gray as they’d been the day before, but now Izzy could see all the gradations of color: the paler, brighter gray where the sun was trying to poke out, the darker gray where there was more cloud cover, the bright white of the surf, the soft beige of the sand. It no longer looked sad and depressing, but peaceful.

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