The Perfect Indulgence by Isabel Sharpe

existing. For not being a massive prick like Bodie! You let that shit stand and it weighs on you, man. Especially with someone you are completely wussy in love with like Chris.”
    “Aw.” Zac reached over to tousle his brother’s hair, as he’d done when Luke was much younger. “You are just so adorable .”
    “Dude! Do not touch the perfect strands.” Luke was giggling like his old self, free and unself-conscious. “We are discussing serious business here. We must make a pact to apologize to our completely unreasonable women who hold our balls in their hot little hands.”
    Zac cracked up. He’d forgotten how funny his brother could be. And in this case, wise. Zac wasn’t going to give up on Chris—of course he wasn’t. She couldn’t possibly enjoy her date with Bodie any more than she had her date with Gus. In fact, odds were she’d enjoy it a lot less. Zac kissing her last night had probably freaked her out and she was having a beer with Bodie in a twisted attempt to protect herself. If Zac stayed patient, his plan could still work. And he might as well practice what he preached and be a better role model for Luke. “Yeah, okay. I’ll apologize if you will.”
    “Deal.” Luke picked up speed, then took a right turn toward the Carmia Pier, which was lined with bars, restaurants and surf shops. “But we’re going to a different bar first. I’m gonna need a beer or two for courage.”
    * * *
    “S O IT WAS cranking out there, really firing. I drop in and I’m charging this wave, totally owning the pocket. I carve my bottom turn totally perfect, I’m totally amped, getting ready to kick out, and some goat boater crosses me and I have to bail before I eat it.” Bodie laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Man, that pissed me off.”
    Chris took a gulp of her third margarita, dimly aware that she was drinking too much too fast, but she had to numb the pain somehow. There had to be a finite number of waves in Bodie’s life, and there had to be a limit to the number of details he remembered about each one, right? Please?
    “So then, there was this time on Indian Beach when I—”
    “Bodie.” The third margarita had given her enough courage to call it a night. “This has been great, but I think I’m ready to go.”
    His face brightened. Chris could have kicked herself. Maybe he’d been boring himself, too? She should have suggested they end their date an hour and two margaritas ago. She shouldn’t even have agreed to come—that had been clear about two seconds after she’d said yes. But that morning she’d woken up in a horrendous old-Chris state of anxiety over the kiss with Zac and what it meant and what it didn’t mean, and then he’d walked into Slow Pour and she’d wanted him to stay and she’d wanted him to leave, so by the time Bodie asked her out, she’d just wanted something in life to be simple .
    Bodie was nothing if not simple.
    “Awesome.” Bodie signaled the waitress. “Where do you want to go? My place?”
    Chris blinked. “Uh, I meant I want to go home.”
    “Okay, that’s cool, too.” He dug out his wallet. “This is on me, by the way.”
    “Thank you.” Generally she’d insist on paying her half, but after what Bodie had put her through, his paying was pure justice.
    “No problem.” He shook back his hair, which wasn’t really long enough to shake, plus it had been overbaked by sun and dried crispy by salt, so it barely moved. “Money is not a problem for me.”
    “That’s nice.” She smiled politely, glad for him. After all, considering his intelligence and personality were clearly lacking, he might as well be rich.
    Thankfully the waitress brought back his receipt quickly and they were out of the restaurant and over to Bodie’s car in a flash. He drove ridiculously fast all the way to her house, obviously as eager as she was to get the evening over with. And to his credit, he was gentlemanly enough to walk her to her front door, where she leaned in for