The Arrangement Anthology 1(228)

Sean looks at his boots and then over at me. “I didn’t want to tell you this, Avery, but—I hate the feeling of the sand between my toes.”

My eyes go wide and I spew the cocoa in my mouth, coughing. “No! You can’t mean that!” I think back to the other times we were at the beach and he never said anything. I’m questioning everything based on this statement, like it’s a pivotal point in our relationship, when Sean starts laughing.

When I turn to face him, he says, “I’m kidding. I’m just too lazy to take off my boots.”

Narrowing my eyes, I give him an evil look, before glancing back at my hot cocoa. I really, really want to keep it, but there’s no way I can resist. Placing the cup down in the sand, I stand and brush myself off, like he offended me. “We can’t be friends anymore, Mr. Ferro. I don’t joke about the beach.”

Sean can tell that I’m not serious, but he doesn’t react, which works fine for me when I turn and lunge at his boots. Grabbing hold of one, I wrap my arms around and pull. Sean flips backwards and makes a surprised sound as I yank harder. Well, fuck. They’re stuck. He’s wearing real biker boots so they’re stiff as hell and they won’t slip over his ankle.

There’s an expression that I’ve heard but never really understood until that second: If you’ve got a tiger by the tail, don’t let go. Catching a glimpse of Sean’s eyes, I see what level of screwed I am, and it’s well into orange or DEFCON 1, depending on how you look at it. DEFCON sounds more badass than colors. I like to say it out loud when no one’s around. The government probably tapped my phone and assigned me my own agent because I say DEFCON way too much. If I ever get a dog, guess what his name will be? DEFCON the badass Dog!

Okay, back to the present where I’m tugging Sean’s leg, literally. I could let go and expect mild retribution, or I can keep tugging and drag his butt into the surf. A wicked smile slips across my face as I pull his ankle fast and hard. Sean just managed to sit up when I start to run with his leg in my hands. He yelps and falls back into the sand again as I drag him as quickly as I can toward the water.

My problem is follow through. I have plenty of determination, so that’s not what stops me. It’s that I get too excited. Giggles take hold of me when I see his face. Sean realizes what I’m doing and looks like a cartoon character, which is so wrong on him, that I can’t stop laughing.

Sean’s lips twist into a smile a second later, “You’re dead, Stanz.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to manage to get up first, Ferro.” Digging my heels into the sand, I tug faster. The sand is damp and cold under my feet. We’re nearly there. Sean digs his fingers into the beach, like that’ll stop me.

“If you get me wet—”

I laugh and spurt out, “Psh. Like I’m ever dry around you?” A wild grin crosses my face as my cheeks burn.

Sean blinks at me and stops struggling. “You did not just say that.”

Ha! A sexy diversion! Just what I needed. I keep tugging and can feel the cold water under the sand now. The waves are crashing right behind me. My plan is to pull him into a wave and then run like hell in the other direction. Good plan, right?

“I think I did,” I giggle. The damn giggles tickle me so much that my body is shaking.

Sean stares at me, not realizing that the next wave will crash into us. The beach is damp and it’s getting harder to pull him. Just a little bit more. I strain, but the sand has collected around his perfect butt, so now I have to pull him over a hill.

Sean flinches, like he just realized he’s going to get soaked. His blue eyes go wide when he sees the massive wave coming. Close enough. Dropping his foot, I try to take off and run the other way back toward dry land, but Sean manages to whirl around and grab my ankle. I fall face first into the sand and Sean’s hands grab my ankles, then my calves, and finally my hips. He rolls me over so that I’m on top of him.

Just as the wave is about to wash over us, he grins like a little boy, and says, “I should have taken off my boots, huh?”

The beach has two types of water, and it’s based on the season. You can have the pleasure of swimming in damn cold water, or in the wintery wonder that’s called holy-fuck-are-you-insane iceberg cold water. You can tell which one it is by the expletives coming from people’s mouths when they wade in. We didn’t get that chance, but it was the latter. Squared. With a penguin on top. Holy fuck.

The wave washes over us, swallowing Sean and I whole. He doesn’t release me, but I can feel the ocean pulling us back as the wave recedes. Sand rushes by my hands as I try to pull away. Somehow, Sean manages to sit up and hold me in his arms. Seaweed is tangled in my hair and touching my face, and my underpants are mostly sand at this point.