The Truth About Sex & Surfing [Featured Story]

Chapter seventeen

“He told me he wasn’t looking for anything casual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And before I, uh, sort of lost it outside his shop, he invited me to his house for dinner. So I could meet his daughter properly. Because the first time I met her, I… well…”

Hailey couldn’t finish her own sentence. All of a sudden she was too embarrassed to tell the truth. That Dylan’s daughter had very nearly seen her naked. That she hadn’t even known he had a daughter to begin with, because she’d slept with him before learning anything about him, or really getting to know him.

Jimmy’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You’re not really made for that sort of thing. It makes you crazy.”

“How would you know? Maybe I am. Maybe I think it’s great—”

They were nearly outside her apartment now, and part of her was hoping that Jimmy wouldn’t have time to respond. She half wanted to leap out of the car, suitcases and all, before he could say another word. She had a weird impulse to put her fingers in her ears and start singing – maybe the national anthem or something – anything to drown him out.

“Hailey, shut up. What I’m saying is that I love that about you.”

“That’s perfect. ‘Shut up, I love you’.”

“For god’s sake, let me speak. I like that you’re not the hookup type. I like what a solid person you are. Most twenty-somethings – I’m counting guys as well as girls – you can’t trust them as far as you can throw ‘em. But you’re not like that and I love it about you.”

She couldn’t argue with that. So she tried the last thing she had up her sleeve. “We are not having this argument. This whole conversation never happened. I ask that it be wiped from the record.”

“I’m afraid not.” He slid into a parking spot, jerked up the emergency break.

She started to open the jeep door. “When I see you again, this conversation will be erased from your memory. You’ll actually have no memory whatsoever of giving me a ride home.”

“Stop it with the mind-control effort. It’s not going to work.”

Ugh.

Now here she was one day later – still jetlagged, but starting the breakfast shift, because they still hadn’t gotten around to hiring a new waitress.

And every time she made a move, Jimmy’s eyes followed her.

He watched her as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the extra-strong pot they kept in the kitchen for themselves. He watched her as she poured some creamer in with a free hand. He watched her as she leaned against the stainless steel counter and took a first sip.

“Oh my god,” she spat.

“What, the coffee?” Serg looked up from the cutting board where he was chopping bell peppers for the western omelet special. “It old or something?”

“No, it’s Jimmy. Look.” She moved her coffee cup back and forth in front of her, slowly, and sure enough Jimmy’s eyes tick-tocked to and fro. “He’s like one of those creepy paintings in Scooby Doo. Make him stop, Serg.”

“Eh, maybe knock it off, boss,” Serg hedged.

“Shut up,” Jimmy barked. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, I can’t work under these conditions. Keep it up and I’ll… I’ll…” Hailey couldn’t think of a threat. She took her coffee and fled through the swinging door into the dining room.