The Lifeguard (SAMPLE) NOW ON AMAZON

Prologue (EDITED)

"First things first. It would help if you learned the different types of waves," the surfing instructor said, and it sounded as if he was much closer to me than he was seconds ago. Feeling his presence before me, I lifted my head from the handbook I had heavily immersed myself in, and my lips instantly pursed when I saw him standing right in front of me, looking irritated.

Gulp...

I smiled innocently at him.

I suddenly felt like I was back in college, and I just got busted for not listening to my professor or that I'd been caught passing notes while he was speaking because of his facial expression. Then, finally, the blonde-haired, pixie, blue-eyed instructor, arched his brow and asked with a curious look in his eye, "Shiloh, is it?"

My fake smile faded, and I answered, "Yes, that's what my parents named me. Why? Do you not like the name they chose? Because I don't care for it either, everyone seems to want to call me Shy, which I'm not," I rambled, my friends gasping around me, "so if you would like, you can always call me honeybuns, angel face..." I said, listing off other nicknames people call me, but I stopped when I felt one of my friends kick my chair from behind.

I probably shouldn't have mocked the cute-looking surfer dude we hired to teach my friends and me to surf, but I didn't care for how he was looking at me. His lifted brow and the tone in his voice when he asked my name, with a look on his face that looked like he was asking, would you like to fuck after class?

He rubbed me the wrong way.

If anyone should be looking at someone desirably, such as he was, it should be me. After all, he is my teacher, and students are the ones who should be dreaming naughty thoughts about their teachers.

Not the other way around.

"Shiloh..." my friend Daliah scolded, smacking my arm.

The cute surfer dude smiled like a smart ass, then winked. "Actually, I think that's a beautiful name. But I approached you because I noticed you weren't listening."

I knew it.

"I was listening."

He looked at Dahlia, grinned mischievously, then shifted his eyes back at me. "If you were listening. What did I just say?"

Shit.

What did he say again?

I looked at Daliah, then at him, and said, "You said if you were listening," I giggled. But when his eyebrows lifted even higher, I knew my being funny time was over, and I added, "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I was only trying to be funny to lighten the mood in the room. Anyway, I believe you said that we need to learn the waves. I was listening, but honestly, I have to say I'm very nervous about surfing, and I got curious about what dangers I'd be putting myself in, so I started scanning through the handbook."

"The only way you'll ever be in danger is if you don't listen to me. Don't get me wrong. Surfing is a lot of fun, but if you don't listen to my advice or the rules about surfing, then yes, you'll be in a lot of trouble—something we don't want happening. Since you girls signed up for the private month-long class, and if you're still struggling to ride a wave at the end of the thirty days, I'd be worried because that'll only mean one of two things. Either there's something wrong with you, or you're just not cut out to surf."

He's right.

I didn't want to upset my friends since grade school—learning to surf was what they wanted to do after our friend Lindsay said a relative of hers told her we were more than welcome to stay at their beach house for the summer—an exquisite home located right on Malibu beach. So I said to him, "I apologize. You've got my ears and my full attention."