Saving Cinderella

Chapter Seven

Keaton didn’t take Wes’s surfboard out at first, choosing instead to keep a very close eye on Sophie. He stood in the water at the nose of the board and taught her about the types of waves, whitewash and riptides. By the time they were done, she had way more confidence, enough that Keaton felt comfortable getting a board and joining her in the water.

They paddled out and while they watched for waves, he could not help but think she was one of the most remarkable people he’d ever met in his entire life. This girl was fascinating: fearless and outspoken but somehow still shy and reserved. Like she needed to be more confident. Maybe she just needed someone to believe in her.

Sophie had a hard time catching the first few waves, her timing was off and she’d miss that push that indicated it was time to ride. By the fifth one or so, she stood, and smiled victoriously for all of one eighth of a second before she wiped out. This scenario repeated itself over and over and each time she went under, she’d rise again, more determined than ever. Keaton watched her in awe. Every time she fell, he was falling too. She took a little piece of him with her on each descent into the water, only Keaton didn’t need to get up and try again. He was happy to let Sophie pull him under.

Ouch. She hurt in places she never knew existed. But the more she fell, the more pissed off she became. She sat down on her board, dangling her legs over the edge to take a break and watch Keaton.

He’d clearly done this before. She stuck mostly to the whitewash like he’d told her to, but he didn’t need to do the same. He expertly cut through the waves, slicing across them horizontally, turning his surfboard with his feet and getting some incredible height. God. He’d probably surfed in the womb.

Even though she was at least a hundred yards from shore, the obnoxious colors of Taylor’s surfboard could be seen from a mile away. It was a gaudy thing, near eight feet long, neon pink and orange. Why’d she slip up and tell Taylor last night that Keaton and her were surfing? Mistake.  Of course she’d come and try to sabotage it. And she’d brought witnesses. A small group of friends surrounded her.

Worse case scenario. Taylor was nearly as good as Keaton at surfing. She’d come to show off and humiliate Sophie. These were normal antics for Taylor and usually Sophie could shrug it off but this time, it mattered. What Keaton thought of her mattered, probably more than it should.

She watched as Taylor stripped down to her bikini. Her skin was golden brown, a result of both the California sun and too many minutes spent in a tanning bed. She didn’t bother with a wetsuit and wasted no time before she started waxing her board.

She moved through the water, rapidly paddling to where Keaton, oblivious to all of it, remained in the surf. Taylor perched on her board about twenty feet from him and hollered something Sophie couldn’t make out in his direction.

When he realized who was next to him, he effortlessly dismounted from the surfboard, lying on his stomach and paddling toward Sophie, motioning for her to go to shore. Once the water was waist deep, he rolled off of his board and made his way to her. Taylor’s head was turned in their direction and Sophie could not help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction.

This delightful feeling only intensified a thousand times when he grabbed her board and pulled it close to him. He took her face in his hands and without saying a word, covered her mouth with his own. She slid one leg over the board and slipped off the edge, wrapping her legs, leg grab included around his waist.

As they neared the shore and the water changed from waist deep to knee deep, Keaton set her down, releasing both her and the kiss. Taylor’s gaggle of groupies stood there, mouth’s agape in shock.

When Sophie caught her breath, she wondered if after being witness to that little display, Taylor would burst a blood vessel or ten. That is if she didn’t first.

That happened in movies.

In books.

Not in real life.

She removed the leg grab and the wetsuit and she knew without any doubt that with each painful movement she felt now, would be there tenfold later. Keaton watched her, his own wetsuit set aside. He kept his board shorts on but with the sudden audience Sophie felt exposed and slipped back into her jeans and t-shirt.

“You did incredible for your first time,” he said. “You should be proud.”

“I’ll remember to be proud after I be hurt,” Sophie said. “I’m so going to pay for this later.”

“Come back to my place,” Keaton said. “We have a hot tub. It’ll fix you right up.”

A hot tub sounded nice. More time with Keaton sounded nicer.

“Bribe me with food,” she said.

“Chinese food,” Keaton said. “We can eat it, wait the mandatory half hour and go in the hot tub.”

“After a kiss like the one you just gave me, I’d follow you blindly and without reason, the Chinese food and hot tub are both perks.”

He grinned. “You liked that, did you?”

“Rhetorical.”

Back at Keaton’s place, Sophie sat at the table trying desperately to focus on the words on the takeout menu in front of her, instead of replaying the feeling of Keaton kissing her and the horrified look on Taylor’s face when she watched it all go down.

She’d never done anything better than Taylor, except schoolwork. Everything else placed Sophie directly in Taylor’s shadow. Friends, talents, definitely looks, Taylor excelled in so the fact that this guy, this amazing, phenomenal guy wanted her, saw her instead, didn’t sink in too easily.

She stared blankly at the paper while Keaton wrapped his arms around her from behind, pointing. “Look,” he said, “Dinner for two.”

Dinner for two could have been dinner for ten. They sat on the floor in the living room sampling various dishes from the take out containers until she was sure she would burst.

After their food had plenty of time to digest, Keaton stood to get towels.

“I’m going to get changed in the bathroom,” she said.

“Sure. First door on the right.” He pointed down a hallway.

Sophie undid her jeans, sliding them to the floor before lifting her t-shirt over her head for the second time that day. Sweet Jesus. She was literally black and blue. She looked in the mirror, cringing at the sight of all her bruises that sat on the surface of her skin. They appeared quickly. She’d half expected them to be there tomorrow but this soon?

She couldn’t wait for Keaton’s towel. She grabbed one from the towel rack and wrapped it around herself, determined to hide the ugliness for as long as possible before having to reveal it.

Out on the balcony, she ditched the towel and tried to swiftly climb the stairs to the spa, but every step felt like she was summiting a god forsaken mountain; pain shot straight up her legs and radiated across her back.

“Oh my God,” Keaton cringed.

Who was she kidding? Her skin was the human equivalent of bleach. She couldn’t hide anything, especially colorful bruises.

“Yeah,” she said. “I kind of took a beating.”

His eyes scanned her body and as she stepped up to get into the hot tub, he grabbed her wrist in his hand, turned it over and placed a kiss on her palm. “Let me kiss it better, Sparrow,” he said. Those words were a doubled edged sword. A challenge for her to stop him, and a promise of what was to come.