t h e  o c e a n
COVEY'S POV:

Before Conrad ends his lecture for the day, he says, "I got an anonymous email from someone asking why we are reviewing a lot of romance stories. Now, though I am not one who laughs much—" That's a total lie, but okay. "I rolled my eyes to myself and wondered what the issue was."

It was probably Margot Lee. You're an idiot, Coco Puff.

"I think love teaches everyone—humanity in general, a lot of valuable life lessons that hate, violence, greed, selfishness, and everything else horrendously degrading cannot teach. I also understand that love and romance does not suit everyone's fancy, but it is not necessarily confined to being between two people either. You can love your car, you can love food, pets, TV shows, music—but, as we are all writers here, I do ask; 'Why do you think romance is the #1 best-selling genre?"

When nobody raises their hand, I do. "Well, everyone has succumbed to this ideal version of love—of the chase, then the heartbreak, and at last, the forgiveness. While every couple in books is almost always imperfectly perfect, people want that, and if we're lucky enough, we can actually find it in real life. But some people aren't lucky enough, and they spend their whole lives as hopeless romantics behind the pages of a best-selling book instead. I think that's just the 21st century for you. A hit or miss between love and expectations."

Conrad looks at me and nods his head appreciatively—because he knows what I mean. To have lust and love in one, to have that bond and connection so intimately. 

"This is true. People do fantasize over what the cannot physically attain. Same thing is true about wealth, possessions, and fame." He looks around at everyone, his gray eyes flickering to everyone as if trying to find the culprit of the email. "They all chase after the wind, so to say. But discussing literature with a love subplot is a lot more entertaining than talking about Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, right?"

There are a few snickers from the other students in the auditorium.

Venice, who's still sitting next to me amid the drama of yesterday and who's causing Conrad to glare at him harder than everyone else, voices his opinion; "People like to feel. And when something doesn't go according to plan in the plot, we feel it."

Conrad clenches his jaw, and looks directly at him as he says, "So, like when someone kisses someone else's girl?" Okay, not the time—Coco Puff...

Venice nods, either unaffected or oblivious. "Yeah, something like that."

I almost gasp out loud, my eyes widening in horror. "Or, the girl just makes a stupid decision and it ends up a catastrophic disaster." Like how this conversation is hitting too close to home?

"That too," he mutters. "Because there's always a rebellion involved, right?"

"I rebel, and therefore I exist," I whisper, before looking up at Conrad. "And I think that's what keeps readers on the edge of their seats."

"Can we please stop talking about all this romance shit?" Margot blurts out, sitting up from her seat. Oh my god, the level of disrespect. Everyone turns their attention to her. "I came here to write, not sit in a book club with a bunch of simps and stuff."

Conrad glares at her, balling his fists up at his side. And controlling his anger, he sticks his sharp nose in the air and clenches his jaw. "I will not tolerate the amount of disrespect you just showed me, Miss Lee. We are all adults here. You may leave the auditorium if you are so disturbed."

She grabs her book bag and nods happily. "I was just leaving, thank you." You're not welcome.

"She sent the email, I knew it!" I blurt out, shutting my mouth when it's too late and the words have already left. What can I say, I gotta defend my Coco.

Conrad shakes his head at me and checks his watch before closing out, "That is all I have for today. There is no weekend homework nor are there any assignments due on Monday. Have a good weekend."

I get up to leave right away because it's me and Conrad's weekend away. Wait—I just realized it's my birthday today too. I'm twenty now, peeps! So mature, I know.

Before I can leave the hallway, Venice matches me stride for stride and catches my waist. "Covey," he says, removing his hand from me like I burned him. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I just—I got a weird vibe from Professor Monroe."

"Thank you for your concern," I reply, giving him a side glance, "but I was fine. I don't think anything would've happened on school grounds." Except for going into his office and bending over his desk... 

He doesn't need to know that though.

"Are you sure nothing is happening here? Because you two seem to have a connection on a deeper level than normal," he observes.

"As in what?" I ask him in fake oblivion.

Venice pauses in thought for a second. "Like, for example, his topics for class. They're always about forbidden love and wanting something you can't have. It feels like you're talking about more than the fictional side of things."

"Venny," I sigh, looking up at him with my innocent eyes. Observant much? "Do you really think I'd do something stupid?"

"I believe all of us can do stupid things," he answers, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I know I did yesterday, and again, I'm sorry for that—but sleeping with your professor? Shit, I didn't think you had it in you."

"I never said I slept with him," I say, my voice a little hesitant. "What gave you that idea?"

He nods his head and laughs. "That's true, I take that back. When we met you didn't even know what the term 'turn on' meant." Then he sighs. "I guess what I'm saying is, Professor Monroe gives you a certain look, not to freak you out or anything, and I'd rather not have him molest or sexually harass you—if you know what I mean. So, in that case, I'll be watching him closely."

My Coco Puff... sexually harass me? Please, he thinks raising his voice at me for calling him Coco Puff deserved an apology.

But all I do is give Venice a smile and let out a breath of relief, saying, "Thanks for looking out for me."

And his famous line, "Anytime, babe."

******

I meet Conrad at our usual spot, at the park, and he helps me load my suitcase in the trunk. Then he scoops me in his arms and plants a big, wet kiss on my lips. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Happy birthday, me," I echo, wrapping my arms around his torso. "I think I got what I wanted after so many years of not celebrating myself."

He hums, a sound that can be interpreted, in my book, as a groan, moan, or growl. "And what is that?"

"A big teddy bear that I can hug whenever I want," I say, biting my lip and smiling up at him.

"You're so fucking sappy, Covey," he grumbles, kissing my nose. I crinkle it up with a big grin. I love him so much. "Let's get going, I want to catch the sunset."

"Okay," I whisper, pulling away and walking over to the passenger side. He opens the door for me and shuts it once I get in. When Conrad walks around the hood of the car and I check out his booty, he slides into the driver's seat. "You know, I've never ever been to a beach before."

"What the hell, really?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Are you for real?"

I nod. "Yeah. I grew up in the desert, and the last time I checked, there wasn't an ocean there."

"So you've lived under a rock your whole life," he mutters, shaking his head. "Literally."

"Apparently you have too," I remark, reaching over to grab his bicep when he turns the car on. Oh, muscly. "I mean, who doesn't know what dino chicken nuggets are? Or happy meals? Hello?"

Conrad pulls out of the parking lot and turns a few streets until we get on the freeway. "I'm sorry if I didn't have a happy meal to get rid of my depression—"

"Awh, Coco, you're depressed?" I ask, tightening my grip around him.

He smiles at me knowingly, shaking his head. "The fuck? No, not anymore." Okay, mister.

"I love you," I whisper. "So friggin' much."

"No bad words," he reminds me.

"I said 'friggin'', is 'fooking' better?" I inquire, twisting my face up in thought. They're the same thing.

Conrad purses his lips together and sighs, changing lanes on the highway. "You do you, kid."

Crossing my legs in my lap so I'm criss-cross-applesauce, I say, "I always do." Have you met me?

He waits a second before asking something out of the blue. "Do you ever miss them?"

"Who?"

"Your parents," he whispers as his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "It's okay, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"I'm still mad at them," I respond, staring straight ahead at the road of cars heading in the same direction. "But I miss them. You can feel both emotions, you know?"

"I know, baby." He reaches a hand out to cover my thigh and I lean into him more. "I miss my mom but my dad is a bitch."

"What happened?"

I see his jaw physically clench and I inadvertently do the same. "She had cancer and didn't survive. My dad blames me for it. I don't know how I could cost her her life and get her sick, but his twisted son of a bitch mind thinks I did. I'm alright though," he says, all too fast. "I got my mamas right here."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," I tell him wholeheartedly.

He turns his cheek to the side. "Thank you? The hell is 'thank you'? What happened to 'thankies'?"

I let out a tiny giggle, rolling my eyes at him. "Thankies."

He squeezes my thigh where his hand is at. "You're welcomes, Cove."

******

When we pull up to Conrad's beach house in the town of Malibu, California, my eyeballs fall out of my head. How does he—you know what, let's just ask Mr. Grumpy Grinch instead of trying to figure out this complicated math equation. "And how do you afford this place?" I ask, spinning around in my place to get a good look at everything. Beachfront living? Yo, why is he a teacher then?

"I'm invested in stocks," he says, his head lifting from the trunk of his car as he pulls our luggage out. "And I have my writing. And then I teach, but that's just to keep myself busy." He walks over to me and pulls me to his chest. "You like?"

"I love." I look over his shoulder at the ocean. "Oh my dinos, I love it more than I love you."

He glares down at me. "Take that back."

I shake my head and walk towards the front door. "Nope, never in a million years."

He follows me and grabs my waist. "Covey."

"Coco."

"Come on, that's not true. You've been here for less than five minutes. How can that replace the view you get in our bedroom?" He lifts his shirt up as if to remind me of the glorious six-pack he's been blessed with.

I bite my lip and graze my fingers along his muscles. "I love that view too, but this one is just... I don't even know... it looks like Picasso himself painted it. You're just sculpted by Michelangelo, no big deal."

Actually, big deal but he doesn't need anything to add to his ego. 

It's really big.
Michael Scott: "That's what she said." Only now do I know why she said it.

Conrad starts walking forward and I follow him in backward shuffles. When my back is pressed against the door, I see the debate in his eyes—whether or not to pin me against it and kiss me or just let us in—and to my surprise, all he does is kiss my forehead before unlocking the front door. Good boy. Good self-control. As much as I want him kissing me, I wanna go to the beach.

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in his mind. The inner demons he faces; not just about controlling his desires, but for life in general. He's so complicated and rough with everything he does, yet he's sweet and tender with me. But why is he so closed off to everything else? Maybe someday I'll have the privilege of finding out the complete answer. His parents are a deciding factor, but maybe there's more. And if there is, I'm hoping he'll tell me.

Conrad fiddles with the keys opens the door as I stammer into the foyer of the place. I swear I melt to the ground. "You have direct access to the beach from here?" I ask, my mouth dropping open. 

He takes his index finger and shuts it. "You might wanna close that before my friend down there takes it as an invite."

I gulp, nodding. "Can we change and go down to the water?"

He taps my booty and smirks. "Anything to see you in a bikini." Then he adds, "Anything for you in general. Hurry, the sun will set soon."

******

The ocean is the prettiest and most soothing sound I've ever heard in my life. Okay, I take that back—Conrad's moans are pretty soothing. But there's something about the constant sound of waves crashing against the shore, the wind blowing the hair on my head around, the soft sand under my feet. Conrad's warmth. His touch. The sunkissed feeling of his kisses on my neck as the rays of the sun heat up my skin.

He walks us to the water and I get my toes wet, looking up at Conrad with a smile. "It's warm."

"Kind of," he shrugs, wrapping me up in his arms. I'm pressed to his bare chest, causing my cheeks to heat up. It's kinda funny how we've been in this same position multiple times yet this one feels different. Like somehow we're on the same exact level. The same page, same sentence, same word.

"Warmer now," I mutter, putting my arms around him.

He nods against my head, his chin on top. "Me too."

Conrad pulls away so he can cup my face in his hands to look at me intensely. And by the way he's looking at me, I feel so lucky to have a guy like him. Someone to care for me this way. Someone to just plain vibe with. Someone to connect with on a different scale, a different way than everyone else. Someone to be somebody to intimately. Exclusively. Personally. 

I reach up and trace his jaw before pulling it down so I can kiss him. His hands brush down my back and he rests them in the middle after tracing my spine all the way to the dimples on my tailbone. I melt into him until our bodies are flush, our mouths moving slowly, tongue and tenderness, roaming my hands around his body as if I can't get enough of him. In reality, I can't.

He turns me around and leans us down so we're laying in the wet sand, his nose in my neck and our breathing heavy. "Covey," he says, his voice a husky whisper.

I hum, wrapping my arms around his sides even though my back is all sandy. "Yes, Coco?"

"You see the ocean?" he asks, intertwining his legs with mine. 

"Yeah, it's right in front of us," I laugh, shaking my head.

He looks ahead at the water, where our feet touch the tide rolling in. "It's beautiful, and real, and so—" He shakes his head, unsure how to describe it. "You just know that day after day, the waves will keep coming. They'll never cease to crash." He grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles before staring at me with a look I wish to photograph in my mind forever. "That's my love for you. Deep, serene, abundant—not just a drop in a bucket. I feel the whole ocean for you, baby."

My love for you is like the ocean.

"You love me?" I ask, about to cry. I knew he was contemplating it earlier, but he loves me. Covey Jensen. Weirdo and idiot and Coco Puff 2.0. "And your confession was very poetic." Whispering to myself, I say, "I'm in love." Duh, idiot.

Conrad reaches around so he's hovering over me. "I just told you my love for you is as immense as the ocean, and you're asking me if I love you? The fuck?" He kisses my nose. "That's still a question?"

I shake my head. He said four words; 'my love for you', not the three just yet; 'I love you.'

"Can I go down on you right now?" he asks, running his finger along the string of my bikini bottoms.

I widen my eyes. "Here? In public?"

"Nobody's here," he whispers, "the neighbors aren't ever home either. It's a private beach."

"Coco," I say hesitantly.

He shakes his head. "Baby, let me take care of you."

"Okay." 

He kisses me once on the lips before pulling my bottoms to the side and reaching his fingers down to brush my clit. I get up on my forearms and look around, come to see nobody is in eyesight. When Conrad leans down further on the sand, I spread my legs wider and he unties the sides of my bikini bottoms. And then he starts kissing the trace of my stomach before placing his mouth against me. As he licks me and swirls his tongue against me slowly, I slide my hand around the back of his neck, tugging at the hair on his head.

Moaning, I gasp and sigh once his tongue finds its way inside my entrance—and he dips in and out expertly, exploring. His hands hold onto the inside of my thighs to hold me in place, keeping me from moving. Stormy gray eyes molded into a wonder of green and blue and the sound of the ocean look up at me with lust, so I shut mine and sigh, falling down on my back completely.

He reaches over with one of his hands and laces his fingers with mine, and it's that little action that flicks on a tiny lightswitch in my mind. That he's here with me. And he wants me. And is being patient. Waiting. Loving me.

"Conrad," I say, breathlessly.

He hums, the vibrations making me shiver.

"Conrad, can we go inside?" I ask. "Please?"

He lifts his head up and looks at me with a puzzled expression. "But I can make you come right here."

"You can make me come anywhere," I deadpan, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smirks. "That's true." Then he leans over to kiss me and I taste myself, his tongue painting my own. "Okay, let's go."

Conrad ties the sides to my bikini again like a gentleman and scoops me up in his arms, my legs around his waist. I trail my lips from his neck to his jaw in peppered kisses, so happy that I feel like I'm gonna explode. My Coco Puff loves me.

He takes us to the outdoor shower on the side of his house and turns the warm water on so we can rinse off. "I'm not a fan of sand in my house," he tells me.

"Well thank you for the information," I say sarcastically, rinsing my back off. "But your house is right off the sand."

"Always so sassy," he mutters, rolling his eyes to himself.

When Conrad comes up behind me and kisses my shoulder before running his hands along my curves, I bite down on my lip and reach back to untie my top, turning around to gag his reaction. He inhales sharply and weights my breasts in his hands before giving me a goofy smile, swooping down to kiss me. 

"You're so gorgeous, Cove," he murmurs, undoing the ties to my bottoms too.

I shake my head and say, "If you want me naked, you better be getting naked too." Once I'm washed off, I grab the towel on the deck and wrap myself up in it. 

Conrad follows me, naked and exposed and very very friggin' hot, pulling me into his arms. "My bedroom?"

I nod. 

He lifts me up over his shoulder—making me shriek in laughter—and walks into the house, through the living room, the different hallways, up the stairs, and into a room on the second level. Everything is upside down until he sets me on the bed. And when he does, I get a good look at the view. It looks out towards the beach, the waves continuously crashing against the shore. 

I am mesmerized. 

Conrad loves me that much.

He looks down at me with a lustful and loving look in his eyes as he bends down to lay me flat on my back. "What are you thinking about?"

"How lucky I am," I whisper. "How there are over seven billion smiles in the world, but only yours pours life into me."

"I can say the same about you, kid." He brushes his nose against mine, and I reach a hand up to cover his heart. It's beating as fast as mine, as if he knows.

And I don't think I've ever felt more alive, more at peace, more at home in my entire life. They say, 'Home is where the heart is,' and my heart is with Conrad. He's my home. So, confident that this is the right moment, the right day, and the perfect person, I lean up to kiss his lips sweetly. 

And when I pull away, I give him that look he always gives me and say, "I want you."

******
AUTHOR'S NOTE:

It's friggin' time!! Let me know your thoughts on the chapter :)
And enjoy the CONREY aesthetics, hehe

Can't wait to read your guys' comments. LOVE YOU <3
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