11. The Squawk, Squawk, Beau

Something about the way the seagulls squawked in the distance and the sounds of the waves pushing back and forth against the shore lulled me into a good, relaxed mood. The warm sun, and just being outside had to be factored in too. Today was everything for me.

I ran over the sand, soaking wet from the waves, until I dropped down on a large bath towel from the resort. I absently dragged a smaller one over my face then my hair. My gaze locked on Dash, still in the ocean, swimming the freestyle stroke back to the shore.

As hard as it was to admit, Dash the Perfect did have a flaw. He wasn't much of a swimmer to be a lifeguard. I might have drowned waiting for him to get to me.

The credit for my good mood had nothing to do with the sounds of the beautiful day. It rested solely on the guy in the water coming toward me. He was dazzling, stunning to spend time with. Today's obsession? His mouth. His jaw encased a set of perfectly formed, fleshy lips.

I started the day awkward and unsure, worried about someone seeing us and coming to correct assumptions, but his genuine good nature soothed any uncertainty. He showed me we could pull off the appearance of friends while getting to know each other on a different level.

He did manage to get me a job at the fishing charter service. My position was grunt worker number two. Meaning, they'd assign various duties for my shift when I arrived. Perfect for me.

Dash trudged through the shallow water at the shore, his swim trunks hanging low on his hips. He had a badass tan with not a freckle anywhere. Not me. I hadn't been in the sun this way for years. I had a farmer's tan and a splattering of freckles across the bridge of my nose and along each shoulder. Something that Dash teased me about mercilessly.

"Jeez, you can swim." He huffed, trying to catch his breath while dropping down on his towel, exhausted. He lounged back on his elbows. When that proved too much effort, he laid down fully, draping his arms over his face, covering his eyes. His chest pumped up and down with each breath. My lips quirked at such a dramatic display.

I reached for the other smaller towel and tossed it over him, chuckling. "I win."

"Remind me to never suggest a race with you again. You're a warrior competitor. How did you swim so fast?" He lifted his arm enough for me to see the anguish on his brow as he still struggled to breathe.

"My buddy back in Alabama, Scott Lee, lived next door to me for all of my life. Everything we did was a competition. We played every sport together, challengin' each other. I hate to lose, but Scott hates it more which made me try harder. I got to where I won most of the time. It bugged the crap out of him." I spoke the absolute truth except for admitting the true joy I had from watching Scott throw his baby fit when I beat him. Life didn't get much better than that, as potentially demented as that might sound.

"You could give me a break. At least pretend I was close. You left me in the dust. I think you were back on shore before I took my first stroke." His arm dropped back over his eyes.

"I did give you a break," I said, trying to hide my laughter. The appreciation for my efforts fell flat when Dash's small towel hit me in the face. It only made me laugh louder, and I reached for a bottle of water. "I decided if I had to wait for you to save me, I'd probably drown."

"Haha. My guy thinks he's funny…"

I barely got the swallow down and had to pause before taking another drink to let the burst of laughter free.

He moved faster than I gave him credit for as he lifted and squeezed the plastic bottle, water splashing in my face. I was so unprepared, I took the liquid in through my mouth and nose, causing me to bend away as I coughed and choked it out. Dash's laughter rang joyfully while taking the win away from me.

"Don't worry. I'm a lifeguard. If I can get to you, I'll save you if you drown." Playful condescension laced Dash's tone. A towel was tossed over my head. He enjoyed himself immensely and got me real good. His infectious snicker had me laughing again as I wiped the towel over my face. I gave him a side-eye where he was sprawled out on his towel, hands underneath his head. Grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

It was hard not to stare. Dash might not be fast, but he was mouthwateringly fit.

"Tell me something about you," he said, then closed his eyes.

"I can't imagine there's anything I didn't say last night." I wadded the smaller towel up and shoved it behind my head as I lay back too.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked and shifted on his towel to lay on his side, head in hand. "I like learning about you. Since you're stuck in my head, it gives me more to think about."

"My favorite color?" Why would anyone want to know? I gave him a critical stare. One eyebrow arched as I contemplated my answer. First, I assessed the question. It seemed obvious enough. Second, how did I answer? Was there a trick to it?

"Sure. They're details everyone in a relationship should know about their partner." Dash gave me an absurd look, like I was the dumbest person on the planet for not already knowing. All the attitude coupled with the teasing smile didn't help to make his point.

"We're in a relationship?" I asked and closed my eyes. Hopefully, I succeeded in a nonchalance I didn't feel as I tried to hide my body's reaction to such news. It went instantly haywire, my heart doing a free fall in its excitement. We'd gotten along beautifully today. If that held…

"Yeah. You don't agree?" The way he said it had me cracking a lid at him. This time, his I'm-crazy look held sincerity.

I let the idea of a relationship bounce around my head. In my silence, I lifted my brows as if I thought of something good then lowered them like I'd had a bad thought.

I kept him on the hook. "I don't really think about color. I have a lot of browns…"

"Omigod, you can't say brown. That's nobody's favorite color," Dash replied. I couldn't help my burst of laughter at his passion over something so silly.

"Calm down. It's probably blue, I guess."

He shook his head again, and as if he were speaking to a simpleton, said, "There's a wide range of blues. Narrow it in for me."

I paused, trying to envision the different colors and how I might feel about them. Brilliance popped into my mind as if I were an actual genius. Seriously, my game might be the smoothest around. "Whatever color of blue your eyes are. That's my favorite color."

"Oh my God." A fistful of sand landed on my belly. "You took my line! I was just setting it up for a better landing."

Oh man, Dash knew how to give a good time. My amusement grew when more sand was flung across me. "I win, again."

He dramatically dropped down on his back, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. A firm pout came to his face.

"So what's your favorite music?" I asked. "I listen mostly to country."

It took several long moments for him to participate. "I listen to anything but country." We both turned our heads toward each other in unison. "Country music's too sad. It's like a Disney movie. Everybody has a broken heart."

I saw his point. I listened to country music because everyone around me did. "You aren't wrong."

"Whew, I was beginning to think we weren't as compatible as I originally thought."

Insecurity shot through me at warp speed. After years of pent-up self-loathing and worry, Dash had wiped it all away in a few short hours. But not any longer. "I'm open to other types of music if it's a deal breaker."

Dash's grin grew bigger. He'd been teasing me, and I fell for it. I tried to play it off as indifference. Who knows if I was successful.

"As long as I don't have to listen to it…" I quipped.

But the uncertainty coiled around my heart, refusing to give an inch. My brow wrinkled as I locked my head faced forward into the sun. The reminder of the oppression I had always lived under was too much. It took me to a dark place I never wanted to know again.

I was too edgy. I bent at the waist, reaching for the bottle of suntan lotion, squirting a sizable amount in my palm. I didn't really need it based on the time of day, but I wanted the distraction.

"Do you want me to rub that on your back?" Dash asked, sitting up too.

I didn't readily respond because the self-doubt tasted like acid on my tongue.

"Why aren't you answering? I was kidding about our incompatibility." He adjusted his position until he moved into my line of vision. "We're tucked between the dunes. It's a private beach. We can't be spotted."

I had to find a way to calm down the panic building inside me. He grabbed the lotion from my hand and squirted the cool liquid directly on my back. I arched away from the cold. His hand followed, swiping roughly up and down my back. My uncertainty spun between Dash's hand being everything and nothing I deserved.

"You sure get awfully quiet. I'm sorry for whatever I said that freaked you out. It wasn't my intention." He tossed the lotion to the side and dropped back down on his towel. "You've mentioned Scott quite a bit. I have a good friend like that too. His name's Chandler. We've been in school together since preschool, so maybe three years old. We got dicey when I told him I was gay. It didn't last. A few years later he came out as bi."

"Did y'all date?" I asked.

He chuckled and kept his eyes closed. "No. Absolutely not. All our friends believe we have, but we haven't."

Chandler. I marked his name in my mind then took a conversational turn. "Your life's more accepting than mine. I can't imagine tellin' anyone. I can't believe I told you," I said, and turned, sitting crisscross on the beach towel, directly in front of him.

"It has to be lonely and painful to not be able to live your true life." The gentle tone he used made me feel like I wasn't hiding my insecurity. He shifted until he took on my stance, sitting in front of me. The frontal assault of how handsome he was paired with all that confidence helped settle the newest ache in my heart. I stared directly into his blue depths.

"I quit football because I got a hard-on in the locker room. I played varsity as a freshman, and the guys were all older than me. More developed. Like men. It turned me on, and I couldn't control it."

"Yeah, that sounds like it'd be a problem." Something akin to compassion crossed Dash's brow, turning him serious. His fingers reached out to caress my thigh. I couldn't let it happen. I wasn't ready for him to touch me in such a semi-public place. But the comfort he tried to give didn't go unnoticed. It was nice that he understood.

"I played Lacrosse, and even with me knowing everyone in my school and my parents being wealthy, it wouldn't have been good for me if anything like that happened." His lips mashed together. Sorrow crinkled the corner of his eyes. "I guess your father's a homophobe."

"My father's a sexist, racist, violent guy. He's a local celebrity back home. It didn't go well when I quit. If I told him why, it'd been far worse. He'd've put me in a conversion therapy program, for sure. The more difficult, the better. He likes to toughen me up. But me quittin' ruins his plans for my life that he's been workin' on since I was young. I'm to play football in college. He and I are a package deal. We go together all the way to the NFL. He's ambitious, eventually becomin' a head coach. He'd pick Dallas if given a choice. He's crazy arrogant."

"It's not about you. It's about him." That was the one thing no one ever recognized. People thought I was a phenom player, dedicated to God's sport, wanting to go all the way.

"I think he feels like I'm the example of what he can make of a player, if given a chance…"

Dash laughed a harsh bitter sound, stopping me from saying anything more. "What a narcissist. If you have natural talent and quick reactions, that's on you."

"Yeah, no. He doesn't see it that way, but that's not even the problem. Imagine what would happen if he heard I had a hard-on in the locker room?"

Dash laid back, arm under his head as he stared at the sky. "Yeah. That stinks. I'm sorry you're going through that."

"My parents divorced over me quittin'," I explained, dumping it all out as if Dash asked for my sordid details. "It's why we moved so far away. I haven't talked to my dad in months. My mom's been through a lot."

"How's she gonna feel when she finds out the truth about you?"

"I don't know. She's intuitive and was a teacher for a long time. She's not like my dad, but I think she'd worry for me." The guilt had my shoulders tensing, and a deep exhale escaped. We stayed quiet and stared at one another.

"You wanna know my current pain?" he asked and only waited as long as it took me to nod. "There's a website dedicated to me. My dad's PR team found it. He said reservations at the resort are way up. Some weeks this summer have filled to capacity. He stressed the importance of me being on point all the time. It's weird, and I don't like it."

"Like what's on the website?"

"I'm not sure the purpose but it shows candid pictures of me around the resort and there's an email address to send pictures to."

I laughed at his obvious discomfort, but I also got it. The guy was so freaking handsome. I'll be searching for the website myself. Pretty cool resource for the long, lonely nights. "You're a really nice lookin' guy. You could be a model or something."

Dash's good nature was back. "I think, under normal circumstances, my parents would generalize me as a failure because I don't have greedy capitalism as my life's goal, but now, they're happy with me, like next level happy. It's weird. Even more weird is that I actively don't want their disappointment." He flipped out a finger to point, pausing my next question. "I was an accident, a late in life baby. I have a brother that could be my dad."

"I wondered about that. I got the impression your father's an older man."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. Travels a lot, but he loves me. Did I tell you I'm already accepted to SMU's Dedman School of Law? It's not a choice. My dad took care of my enrollment when I first showed interest." He rolled his eyes. "Academic achievement isn't the lynchpin for my acceptance. I'd get in anywhere for my family name."

"The mustangs," I said and grinned. Of course I knew about the university and the scandal that destroyed their football team. The only death penalty given to a college in the history of the sport.

"Switching topics. Rate the date so far." His fingertips caressed quickly over my knee. So fast, he removed them before I had a chance to process what was happening. My body was engaged from the first touch, sending a quake over me. "No one saw me. Remember, I'm hiding too. And I'd give it a ten out of ten."

My cell phone rang. It was still so new that the sound of the ringtone had me looking around until I spotted my phone. My mom's number came across the small screen.

"It's my mom." I lifted a finger to my lips as I answered.

"Hi, Mom." I waited, hearing nothing for the first several seconds.

"Are you there?" my mom asked.

"Yeah. I'm here," I said, raising my voice as if that might help.

"Where are you? Mom's cooking dinner. Does she set you a plate?"

"No, I'm at the beach. Eat without me." I stuck my fingertip into my ear to better hear her. I'd tuned out the constantly moving ocean and screaming kids, but the squawking seagulls were a bitch to hear past. Put all three together and they were a wrecking ball to clear audio.

The cool part about the cell phone, I could openly stare unabashedly at him as he stared right back at me. "I got a job today. It's only eighteen hours a week, but that's all I can legally work at my age," I explained, repeating the information I learned today.

"That's great. Where?"

"I'll tell you when I get home. I'll head that way soon. Don't tell Nana. She won't be happy."

Dash suddenly bolted up to his feet in outrage, shaking his head no in a silly, exaggerated way.

"Beau. You can't…"

Yeah, I knew she'd figure it out. She was a brain ninja like that. And here we went about the evils of the only company who'd give me a chance.

"Mom, I went all over the place. No one's hirin'."

"Beau, I've told you…hiring. There's a g in the word. Say it properly."

I ignored her and kept going. "This is the only place who's will-ing to take me on," I said and turned away from him. "We'll talk about it when I get home. Don't say anything."

Her tone turned teasing. "You can bet I won't say a word. So when did my boy become sociable? You're at the beach. With people?"

"Ha. Ha."

"Well, get home as soon as you can. I need to go to bed early. It's been a long day. When did summer school kids get so bad?" A long yawn followed.

"I think that's the definition of summer school kids…" I cast a quick glance up at Dash who stood like a giant over me, hands fisted at his waist. "I'll be home soon."

Dash's brand of intimidation didn't work, so he amped up the dramatic horror on his severe facial expressions. I had to laugh, my mom forgotten. He came closer, really close, and bent to whisper into my free ear. "Stay longer. I'll take you home."

With his lips against my ear, my initial visceral response sent all the feels washing over me. My brain blipped, knocking away thought for a few seconds. My heart went the other way, connecting hard with how badly he didn't want me to leave. Honestly, I felt the same way, meaning I needed to gain perspective ASAP. We'd had enough time on our first date.

"Were you talking to me? I can't hear you. The seagulls are loud…" My mom pulled me back into the here and now. I'd need to thank her for that someday.

"I'm here." My voice was rough and ragged. "I'll be home before dark. I'm hang-ing up now so I don't use all my minutes." Brilliant thinking on my part. I didn't wait for her acknowledgement and ended the call.

A new, interesting finding about Dash? He didn't take disappointment well. Dash was so dramatic. He stood to his full height, whipping his beach towel up with him. The sand landed all over me. He had to know.

Man, we fit well together, and I laughed, making matters worse.