Page 13

With that comment, Alana turns and walks away, leaving me questioning both my sanity and pretty much every fucking decision I’ve made since I arrived on this island. I’m also so goddamned turned on right now that I’m tempted to just say fuck it, march into the shop, and demand she get her arse into my bed.

“Jesus christ, Flynn,” I mutter, turning back to the car, knowing I can’t do that, no matter how much I might want to.

With a sigh, I shove a hand through my hair, pushing it back before I lie down on the skateboard and slide back under the car in a desperate attempt to stop myself from potentially ruining not just my career but also Alana’s.

“You good to go?”

Something nudges my foot a couple of hours later, and I slide out to find Alana standing over me again, only this time she isn’t straddling me like before, but instead standing to the side, her hands on her hips.

“I think I preferred the first way you got me out from under this car,” I say, grinning up at her, my hand up to shade my eyes from the sun.

She smiles, immediately biting her bottom lip as though she’s trying to hide it. “Is that so?”

I stand, pulling the dirty rag from my shorts and wiping my hands off, not missing the way her gaze drops to my stomach and back again. “Uh huh, yeah.”

She smirks now, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well, I thought you were someone else. Now I know, so…”

She trails off, her unspoken words still loud and clear. Now we do know. We know who I am and who she is and all the stupid fucking reasons she and I can never be anything more. No matter how much we might want to.

“Anyway, you still wanna help me with that lesson?” she now asks, shaking her head a little as though to clear it.

Chuckling, I reach over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, not missing the way she leans into my touch or the way my own heart pounds out a hard tempo in my chest when she does. “Hell fucking yes, I do,” I reply. “You want me to drive us?”

“Um,” Alana says, that bottom lip of hers between her teeth again. I’m not sure if she’s doing it on purpose because she knows it drives me insane or if it’s just a reflex thing, but fuck me, if I don’t want to bite that lip. “Yeah, sure,” she eventually says, blowing out a breath. “Leave in five?”

“I’ll be ready,” I say with a wink.

Alana walks back into the shop, and I head inside, washing my hands as I grab a T-shirt and my board before heading back outside. Alana is already waiting for me, a board that isn’t her custom Olsen, along with a demo one, tucked under her arm as she stands by my hire car.

I open the back and shove my board in before reaching for hers. Alana smiles, handing them to me before she walks around to the passenger seat. I head around to the driver’s side, suddenly wondering if I’m going to be able to cope with driving on the wrong side of the road with Alana sitting next to me. She’s enough of a distraction as it is, let alone when trying to navigate driving on the opposite side to what I’m used to.

“So, where to?” I ask.

She props her elbow on the window frame as she turns to me and says, “Head out and turn right. We’re going to Starfish Cove.”

I let out a laugh at the name, glancing over at her as I turn on the windscreen wipers, swearing softly, before I indicate to make the turn. “So, how old are these kids we’re giving a lesson to?”

Now it’s Alana laughing, her head propped in her hand as she watches me. “Fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” I repeat, brows raised.

“Yep, think you can handle that?”

Laughing, I reply, “Hell yeah, I can handle it. How the fuck do they handle you ?”

“What?” she asks, her brow narrowed in confusion.

I glance over, giving her a quick once-over as though to indicate what I’m talking about. The boys in this group must seriously walk around with non-stop boners with Alana as their teacher. Suddenly I’m really fucking glad I’m here with her.

“So what are we teaching them?”

She smiles. “They’re on boards, so we’re surfing, but they need a run down on better technique. Most of them are shit at trying to stand up. Also, turn here,” she adds, gesturing to the turnoff, a faded sign indicating Starfish Cove.

I make the turn, pulling into the small gravel carpark, a yellow school bus already waiting for us.

“Ready?” Alana asks, turning to me, a smile on her face.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

We grab our boards and head down to the beach where there are a bunch of kids fucking about in the water. Alana smiles, and I’m wondering how the hell she plans to get them sorted. But the second they see her, they all haul arse out of the ocean, congregating around her, boards tucked under their arms and a fair amount of trash talking going on.

“Alright,” Alana starts, her eyes moving over each of them. “We have a special guest with us today,” she adds, turning her attention to me. “Anyone know who this is?” she asks, waving a hand in my direction.

I feel the weight of a dozen sets of eyes on me, the whispered murmurs as they throw a few names out, none of which are correct.

“No?” Alana asks, looking over all of them. “Shame, you guys need to brush up on your surfing history.”

I snort out a laugh, leaning in as I murmur. “History? I’m not that fucking old!”

Alana turns to me, a smirk on her face as she looks up at me, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “You are ten years older than them,” she says quietly.

Chuckling, I lean even closer. “Yeah, but if memory serves, you also didn’t know who I was.”

I intend for my words to be light and playful, but almost as soon as they are out of my mouth, the smile falls from Alana’s face, and I wish I could take them back as she turns back to the kids.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Alana.” I curl my hand around her arm, her skin warm beneath my touch and practically setting my whole body on fire. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She shoots me a quick glance. “It’s okay, Flynn,” she says, giving me a smile. “You’re right, I didn’t.” She nods once before turning back to the kids and explaining today’s lesson, which is apparently going to be a rundown on the pop-up and the two different stances. “Okay, we’re just gonna do a quick demonstration of them, and then we’ll get out on the water,” Alana says, before turning to me again, our earlier conversation now long gone. “You wanna be my model?” she asks, that smirk back as she once again bites her bottom lip.

Chuckling, I walk over to the demo board she’s gesturing to. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“So Flynn’s gonna lie down for us,” she starts, pausing as she waits for me to do exactly that. “And then he’s going to demonstrate the correct way to do a pop-up. And the difference between a regular stance and a goofy stance.”

A couple of the kids snort out a laugh at this, maybe not realizing that Alana’s actually being serious and being able to master both stances is super important if you want to be good at surfing.

“You ready?” she asks, grinning down at me.

“Whenever you are,” I tell her.

Alana claps her hands once as she looks back to the kids and says, “Okay, first up is the regular stance.” She looks back at me, brows raised as if to tell me that’s my cue. “You’re going to want to make sure you’re in the right position on your board, using your hands to push up, straight onto your feet, which need to be evenly spaced beneath you, your left foot forward and your right foot back.”

I do the move quickly and with ease, popping straight up on the board like I’ve done a million times before. The kids all ooh and aah, even though on land it’s hardly that impressive, and I can’t help but chuckle at their response.

“So Flynn has just shown us the perfect pop-up,” Alana now says, smirking at me. “But can anyone tell me the most important thing he did?”

A couple of the kids call out answers, mostly relating to my position on the board or using my knees to steady my stance.

“Nope,” Alana says, shaking her head as she turns to me. “Flynn, you wanna tell them?”

“You gotta keep your eyes forward,” I say, pointing two fingers at my own eyes before turning them to the kids. “Don’t look down or you’re likely to face-plant it.”

This earns another couple of laughs as Alana nods and steps closer. “Flynn’s right,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She jabs a soft elbow in my side before shocking the shit out of me when she puts both hands on my waist and attempts to turn my body. “Now the goofy stance,” she starts, and I get what she’s trying to do, even if inside, my body is going completely haywire at having her hands on me again. Somehow, I manage to turn so my right foot is now on the front of the board and my left is at the back. “It’s literally the opposite,” she continues, removing her hands. “Which Flynn will now demonstrate.”

I do as she asks, my heart pounding as I try to get my body under control. I manage the pop-up again, the kids all watching wide-eyed and like they’ re genuinely trying to learn. Me on the other hand, I feel like my mind is a complete and utter blank.

“Okay, everyone good with the two stances?” she now asks, a chorus of yeses sounding. “I want you all to get out there and try both options, okay. If you want to be good, you need to be able to do both.”

“Are you gonna surf with us, Alana,” some kid who is clearly crushing on her asks, puffing out his chest when she turns to him.

“I will,” she says with a smile. “And if you’re really lucky, even Flynn might join us out on the water. What do you think?” she asks, turning to me.

“Hell yes,” I reply instantly, not missing a chance to surf with her again.

We spend the next hour or so catching waves. Alana and I sitting a lot of them out, but occasionally riding one in, even if we have to watch for the constant drop-in these kids do. Alana tells them off every time they do it, calling them a benny or a kook just to rub it in a bit more.

Laughing, I paddle out past the break, straddling my board beside her. “You’re really good with them,” I say, watching as these two kids try to race each other into shore.

“Thanks,” she says, turning to me. “They can be a handful, but they’re good fun.”

“I think it helps that all the boys are crushing on you.”

“What?” she asks with a laugh, her eyes widening.

“Oh, come on,” I reply, chuckling. “You must see it, the way they all watch you, trying so hard to impress you.”

Alana scoffs, flicking some water at me. “They don’t. They’re just excited because they know someone who’s surfing Maui Pipe.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I tease, leaning toward her. “I’m kinda speaking from experience here, so pretty sure I recognize what a crushing teenage boy looks like.”

“Had your fair share of teenage crushes, huh?” Alana asks, laughing a little.

I hook my foot around her ankle beneath the water, pulling her closer. “Still have one now.”

“Flynn,” she whispers, her beautiful blue eyes widening a little, a pained expression flashing across her face.

“I know, I know,” I say, letting go of her foot as a heavy weight settles in my stomach.

Her fingers brush against my thigh as she gives me a sad smile. “We should head in, lesson’s nearly over.”

After we head into shore, the kids all thank us, their excited chatter loud as they make their way back toward the bus, leaving Alana and me alone on the beach.

I grab the demo board, tucking it under my arm, along with mine, before I follow her up to the path that leads back to the car, the dust from the leaving bus, filling the air.

Neither of us speak, and while I have no idea what Alana is thinking, the only thought running through my head is how much I want to kiss her again. How badly I want her, period.

We stack the boards in the back of the SUV, Alana moving to the front of the car to get in. I follow blindly, not realizing until I’m standing beside her and the passenger door, that I’m on the wrong side of the car.

She finally looks at me, a smile on her face as she says, “The driver’s side is?—”

My mouth crashes against hers, cutting off the rest of her words as I now back her up against the side of the truck, my hands on her hips as my body crowds in against her.

Thankfully with the school bus long gone, we don’t have an audience, and even though I know this is a really fucking stupid idea, I don’t stop, deepening the kiss as my hands slide slowly up her body, one gripping the back of her neck as the other slides into her hair, holding her to me.

Alana doesn’t pull away, and she doesn’t stop me either. Instead, I feel her hands moving to my hips, her fingers gripping my shorts as she pulls me even closer, so our bodies are flush against each other.

“Flynn,” she whispers, the word muffled by our kisses. “What are we doing?”

I bite her bottom lip, gently tugging it between my teeth before kissing her again, unable to stop. It’s like the last twenty-four hours of not being able to touch her or kiss her has only magnified my want for her, and I can’t get enough.

“Flynn,” she says again, my name a moan.

“I don’t know,” I breathe out, my grip on her neck tightening. “I don’t fucking know, Alana. But I can’t stop…can’t stop.”