Chapter 11

I can tellJackson is about to come over and say something to me, so I jump at Ash's offer to leave.

Ash throws some cash on the table, and we book it in the opposite direction, dipping between a couple of buildings that lead to a parking lot. Ash's car is parked in one of the spots up front, reserved for "faculty."

He opens the car, and we slip inside. No sign of Jackson following us, thank God.

I toss my backpack into the back seat, and buckle my seatbelt. "Aren't you afraid of getting caught parking in a faculty spot?"

He taps a parking pass that's hanging from his rear view mirror. "I have my dad's pass. He's a professor in applied mathematics, but he's in Spain right now at a conference."

"Oh." Math. Damn. "That's cool."

When he peels out of the parking lot, I'm thrown back against the seat. We're not even halfway down the road when my phone starts blowing up.

It's Roman.

Oooh, look who"s interested again, all of a sudden.

I just glance down long enough to see his name, but I don't read the messages, because why? Jackson obviously told him I'm with Ash, and I'm just going to guess that Roman has an issue with that.

Fuck him.

Despite his best efforts, Roman doesn't own me.

As we drive down the road, Ash flips a switch that lowers the rooftop. Cold air whips around us, and my hair is down, so it's flying everywhere. But I love the cold wind in my face, stinging my cheeks. It makes me feel free.

We're only on the road for about ten minutes when Ash pulls into a beach parking lot. Always the beach with these guys, I swear. We park, and he puts the ragtop back up, then locks the car, and leads me down to a little surfboard rental shop that's right there on the sand.

Ash approaches the counter, which is the only opening to the shop. "Yo, Tommy! What's up?"

A guy about our age turns around, and lights up when he sees Ash. He approaches the window, and the two fist bump. "Yo, Ash! What are you doing here, man?"

He gestures to me. "This is Lux. I thought I could give her a quick lesson. You got any longboards back there?"

A surfing lesson? Oh, shit. I shake my head. "Oh, no, I don't have a bathing suit–"

Tommy waves off my concern. "We have a winter wetsuit you can use."

"Oh, okay," I say awkwardly. "Great."

"I'm Thomas, by the way." He gestures to Ash. "This asshole just calls me Tommy to fuck with me."

I purse my lips and nod. "You're the second person in a week to tell me he's an asshole. I'm starting to see a pattern."

We all laugh at my little joke before Thomas disappears into a back room, reemerging with two wetsuits. To my amazement, Ash starts stripping down right here on the beach. He tugs his shirt off, revealing miles of sun-tanned skin, and ropes and ropes of muscle lining his torso. Does he have an eight pack? How do all the guys in this town have so much time to work out?

Damn.

I can't keep my eyes off him as he kicks his flip-flops off, then shucks his jeans. He's wearing boxers, thankfully, but they don't leave much to the imagination. I swear I can see a flash of something peek out of the crotch area.

Once he's got his wetsuit on and zipped up, he straightens, and rakes a hand through his hair, smiling at me. "You're staring," he laughs.

I blink and glance away, heat flooding my cheeks. "It's hard not to," I say. "You're stripping right out in the open."

"We don't stand on ceremony here, baby. The beach is our home. Most of us guys are here more than anywhere else."

Thomas laughs. "That's the fuckin' truth."

"It's still weird," I say, taking my wet suit. "Do you have somewhere I can change?" Because there's no way I'm stripping down to my underwear in front of two guys. I'm wearing a dress today, so undressing will be easier, though, thankfully.

Thomas flicks his chin to the right. "Public restroom is right over there."

Nodding, I head over to the gray cinder block structure. The floor is wet when I walk into the open-air restroom, and it's as cold as a meat locker, but I manage to strip down and tug the wetsuit on. It's not graceful, though, and I'm glad I didn't attempt it in front of the guys.

A few minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom with my shoes and dress gathered in my arm. Thomas takes the bundle from me and stashes it in the back somewhere. Ash is already standing next to a longboard.

"Wow, it's huge," I say, looking up at the white surfboard.

"That's what she said," he laughs. "I'm kidding! But you walked right into that one."

"Yeah, I guess I did," I laugh. "Are you teaching me on that huge thing?" He's at least six feet tall, and the surfboard towers above him. I point to one of the smaller boards that's leaning against the surf shop wall. "Wouldn't one of those be better?"

Ash shakes his head. "A longboard requires less control. Most surfers learn on a longboard first."

"Oh." I don't quite see the logic, but I'm just going to have to trust him on this, I guess. "Okay."

He secures a velcro strap to my ankle, the long cord attaching me to the surfboard. "This is so you don't lose the board when a wave hits you. Just be careful it doesn't drag you under the water."

I swallow. "Yeah, duh."

I've never been surfing—Fresno is two plus hours from the closest beach–but I know not to get pulled under the waves. That much is pretty clear.

He laughs at my cheekiness, carrying the board for me as we head out into the water—not too far, but about waist deep. The water is cold-as-fuck, even with the wetsuit on. Thank God only my hands, feet, and face are exposed to the water.

"Okay, hop onto the board," he says, stabilizing it for me.

Yeah, easier said than done. It takes five attempts, and Ash's hand on my ass, before I manage to successfully straddle the board.

We spend the next hour in the water as Ash patiently teaches me the basics. He sets me up and launches me into a wave several times, but every time I even attempt to stand up, I crash into the water.

On my last attempt before calling it quits, he launches me, and I go one way while the board is yanked in the opposite direction. I'm pulled through the water, then pushed down by the giant wave, water swirling around me, holding me under. Seconds later, a pair of strong hands pull me up. I gasp the second I'm above water, coughing up the gallon of salty water I'd just swallowed.

"I think that's enough for one day," Ash says, removing the velcro strap from my ankle.

I'm still coughing as I make my way up to shore. As soon as I reach the beach, I flop down onto the sand. Every muscle in my body aches, and I'm still gasping for air. Jesus. That's a lot harder than it looks.

Ash sets the board down and sits next to me. "You okay?"

I'm on my back, and I turn my head toward him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to kill me."

He laughs. "Yeah, everyone feels like that their first time. Don't worry about it, next time you'll be that much better."

"Next time?" I laugh. "I can't believe people do this more than once. And on purpose."

Ash lays down on his back next to me. "Yup. Never underestimate the pull of the ocean. Once surfing gets into your blood, it's impossible to shake."

As we lay there with the sound of ocean waves crashing mere feet away, and seagulls screeching overhead, I start to understand. It's peaceful here. And while we were out in the ocean, waiting for a wave—and there's a lot of waiting—I could appreciate the tranquility of being a part of the water.

We lay on the sand for a long time before finally getting up and returning the board and wetsuits back to Thomas. Then we head back to campus, Ash pulling up right in front of my residence hall.

"Thanks," I say, reaching for the door handle. "I had fun today. I needed that."

He flashes me a smile. "Same. And hey, I hope I didn't make trouble for you. That wasn't my intention."

"Don't worry about it," I say. "I'm sure Roman is pissed, but he'll get over it."

He shakes his head. "I wouldn't bet on that."

We say our goodbyes, and I promise to text him later. When I head up to my room, I stop by Bree"s room, as usual. Nothing. No answer from her or the roommate, so I continue on to my room. But when I stick my key in, the door doesn't open.

I blink down at my key, then back up at the door. This is definitely my room. I try my key again, struggling with it, until finally, the door is wrenched open from the inside.

"Oh, Lux," Emily says. "It's you, thank God."

I pinch my brows, and she stands aside, letting me pass. I'm so tired, I could just fall into bed and sleep for days. But as I step in, I notice all of my stuff is gone.

"What the fuck?" I yell, turning to Emily . "Where's all my stuff?"

The mattress has been stripped of all my bedding, and the desk and bookshelves look like they did the day I moved in, completely empty.

"I'm not sure. Some people came about an hour ago and took everything."

I turn on her, furious. ."And you didn't stop them?"

She shrugs. "I thought after everything that's been going on with Roman and your friend, you just…I don't know, dropped out or something."

I push out a breath. I know none of this is Emily's fault, but fuck. "It's okay," I say, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. My room and board has been paid, thanks to my scholarship, so I know I wasn't evicted. Whatever this is can be fixed.

Someone has my stuff, I just need to find out who. "I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Who came to take everything? Was it someone from the Housing Office?"

"They wouldn't tell me," she says hesitantly. "But they looked like students, and I heard one of them mention Roman's name. So, uh, you might want to check with him."

Roman.

Of course.

I'm going to fucking kill him.