Page 11

“Hey, Alana,” Tanner says, throwing an arm around her shoulders as soon as she walks over. “You know who this is?” he adds, throwing his other hand in my direction.

Internally, I cringe because this is the part I hate. The part when all the questions start: How did it happen? Were you scared? When are you going to start surfing again?

But that’s not what happens this time because Alana knows who I am and what happened and how I feel about it all. Instead, she smiles at me, a smile that instantly relaxes me as she says, “Yeah, it’s Flynn.”

Tanner and I both laugh at the simplicity of her answer. “Hey, Alana, nice to see you again,” I say to her, meaning it.

“You too,” she replies with a smile. Fuck, she is beautiful.

“You guys know each other?” Tanner asks, surprised.

Alana turns to him, a confused expression on her face. “Yeah, who do you think gave him your card?” she asks, referring to the card she gave me that day in the shop so I could get access to a custom Olsen board.

But I never mentioned Alana’s name or the card when I saw Tanner. Didn’t need to because he recognized me the second I walked through the door and was more than happy to talk boards and making one for me. Not that I told Alana that. Well, not the part about Tanner recognizing me anyway.

Tanner glances over at me before turning back to Alana, chuckling a little when he says, “Guessing you didn’t recognize him then, huh?”

Her smile disappears now as she swallows and turns to me. “Not at first, no,” she says quietly. “But I know who he is now.”

My heart aches with how shitty I feel about all of this and how much I wish it could be different. I never set out to hide who I was from her, just like it was never my intention to do something dodgy like get involved with a competitor. That’s not what any of this is.

“Yeah, I actually met her the morning I arrived,” I say, smiling at Alana even though I’m talking to Tanner. “Got to see her surf. She’s impressive to watch.”

“A natural talent,” Tanner says, laughing, his arm squeezing Alana into his side. “She’s gonna kill it in the Pipe.”

“For sure,” I reply, nodding, my eyes locked with Alana’s.

“I think you two might both be overselling it,” she says, finally breaking our gaze as her eyes drop to the beer in her hands. “Everyone else is a pro. I’m just…well, you know.”

Tanner pulls her into his side again, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “You got in as an amateur, Alana. That’s a big deal.”

Alana nods, her eyes still on her beer. “Maybe,” she murmurs.

“Definitely,” I reply, knowing it really is a big deal. Although amateurs are eligible for certain surf comps, they don’t always make it. To get in, you need to be exceptional.

“See,” Tanner says, dropping his arm from Alana’s shoulders as he tips his beer in my direction. “Five-time world champ says so. This guy knows what he’s talking about. You should listen to him.” He grins at me before winking at Alana. “Gonna grab another beer. I’ll let you two chat.”

He walks off before either of us can reply, leaving the two of us standing here, alone. I’m still staring at Alana, pretty much have been since the second I arrived because I just can’t seem to look away.

“You okay?” I eventually ask.

She looks up, her eyes meeting mine again as she offers me a small smile. “Yeah.”

I swallow hard, wishing this awkwardness wasn’t hanging between us. “You train today?” I eventually ask, wanting to keep talking to her if only so she stays here.

Her smile widens at this, nodding her head as she says, “Yeah, got barreled.”

“Seriously? That’s awesome.”

“It was. It was just…fuck, I don’t know, epic.”

“I wish I’d seen it,” I say, my words quiet as we watch each other.

“Me too.”

She doesn’t look away and neither do I. The two of us just stand by the firepit, watching each other. Around us, everyone else is laughing and talking, seemingly oblivious to the two of us and whatever this is that’s happening between us.

I want to tell her that I miss her.

That even though we were just hooking up, that it was only supposed to be just sex, it felt like much more than that to me.

Somehow, even in the short time we spent together, Alana made me feel more alive than I have in a long time.

Eventually, she blows out a breath before asking, “What were you up to today?”

I shove a hand through my hair as I take a sip of my beer, hating this awkwardness that keeps lingering. “Went for a surf and then hung out with Tanner. He showed me around his shop and the whole board-making process.”

Alana’s eyes widen as she lets out a low whistle. “Wow, he must really be a fan. He doesn’t just do that for anyone.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Nah, think he was just excited.”

Alana scoffs as Kai, who I met earlier today when I was at the shop, walks over.

“Dude,” he says, holding his fist out to me for a bump before he turns and hip bumps Alana, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as he presses a kiss to her temple. As I watch them, their obvious closeness, a weird surge of jealousy starts to curl in my gut.

I know they’re just friends, and I know I have no right to be jealous, especially when nothing can happen between Alana and me. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling it.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” Alana says, offering me a small smile.

I want to beg her not to walk away, to stay here and talk to me, but I don’t. Instead, I watch as she turns and walks away from us.

We all spend the rest of the night chatting and drinking. It’s fun, and everyone is super welcoming and friendly. Alana and I don’t really talk much, but that doesn’t mean I’m not aware of where she is all night.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her, following her whenever she gets up to get something or finding her across the yard as she sits in a chair, chatting and laughing with her friends. I itch to go to her, to pull her into my arms and hold her body against mine.

Eventually, people start to leave, everyone saying their goodbyes to each other as they go. I watch as Alana hugs both Nate and Sage before walking over to me.

“See you,” she says, smiling up at me.

I don’t even think about it, just pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her in a tight embrace. My heart pounds in my chest at having her close again, at holding her in my arms, inhaling her scent. I don’t say anything, too scared to open my mouth in case the words I want to say come flying out.

I miss you.

Please come inside.

Stay.

I know I can’t say any of this to her though, especially in front of everyone here. So I stay silent, holding her for longer than is normal, before I eventually loosen my arms, lifting my head from the crook of her neck.

“Good to see you again,” I croak out, my words rough.

“You too,” Alana says before she pulls herself from my arms, turns and walks away.

I finish helping Nate and Sage clean up before heading back inside the cottage I’m staying in. I’m not really tired, so I grab a beer from the fridge and collapse onto the couch, pulling my phone from my pocket. I open the message app and start typing without thinking.

Me: You get home okay?

I see the notice change from sent to read almost immediately as I stare at the screen, willing her to write back, even if it’s just to let me know she did. Eventually, the bubbles telling me she’s typing pop up on my screen, and I take a sip of beer, feeling weirdly nervous.

Alana: Yeah, you?

I bark out a laugh, typing out a response.

Me: I did, yeah. Thanks for checking. Tell me about today. You surf at Pe’ahi?

Alana: I did. We used the jet ski, but my body is aching. It’s been a while since I trained that hard.

Me: You doing anything out of the water, running or?

Alana: Yeah, I run.

As soon as I read that message, a memory, an image of Alana showing up here in her running gear, her body warm and oh so inviting, hits me. I remember peeling her running clothes off her, of carrying her to my bedroom, of being inside her with nothing between us.

“Jesus,” I mutter to myself, taking another sip of beer as I force myself to type out a response that isn’t me begging her to get over here.

Me: Good, you need to do both. I’m sure you know this already.

Alana: I do, but thanks

I blow out a breath, finishing my beer before I type out another message. Words I wanted to say to her tonight but couldn’t in case anyone overheard us.

Me: I really am sorry about how this has all played out, Alana. I never meant to hurt you or hide who I was from you.

Alana: I know, it’s okay, Flynn, seriously.

Me: It’s not though, not really.

I hit send without thinking about what my last message means, about the implications of my words, and maybe it’s not as obvious as I think, based on Alana’s reply.

Alana: What do you mean?

I know I’m wandering back into dangerous territory here, but I don’t care. Alana makes me feel reckless, like anything is possible, and I fucking love it. I want more of it.

Me: I should’ve told you who I was from the start. But a part of me is also glad neither of us knew who the other was because if we did, then none of what happened would have. And I really liked what happened between us. Liked it a lot.

Fuck me, what the hell am I doing?

Alana: I liked it too.

Her response is simple and everything all at the same time and I immediately start typing out words I know I shouldn’t say.

Me: I mean, maybe we could…we don’t have to make it a big deal. I’m not trying to get inside info on you, I promise. I just really like hanging out with you, Alana. On the water and, well…in my bed. I don’t want to stop doing any of that, even if it’s wrong. It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It feels right, so fucking right.

I’m staring at the screen, at the words I’ve written, which are beyond stupid. I can’t do anything with Alana no matter how much I try to convince myself or her that it’s not a thing, that it’s not wrong. It is wrong and we both know it and the last thing I want to do is get Alana in trouble.

She needs to surf at Maui Pipe, and I am not going to be the reason she can’t.

So instead of sending the message, I delete my words, replacing them with something that isn’t going to fuck everything up.

Me: I should let you sleep. See you later.

Her response is to like the message, no words sent back to me, no goodnight from her end, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ve already fucked everything up.