Page 18

I immediately extend a hand, a smile on my face, as I try my best not to look at this situation with complete disdain. There certainly won’t be any more morning runs with Flynn now, and I hate the thought of it. It’s been the best part of my day.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say sweetly, and Jade loosely shakes my hand. “I’ve been following your career for a while now. It’s really impressive.”

“Oh my god, you have?” she croons, this high-pitched tone to her voice as if she’s talking to a small child. “That’s so cute.” Batting her eyelashes, she smiles, but it feels fake and condescending. “What was my last comp you watched? Was it Tahiti Tide? I killed it there, right, Flynn?”

Flynn nods in agreement, but he looks like a different person. His face is pinched, and his jaw is tight, and when Jade sidles up against him, I see his entire body tense up. This isn’t the guy I met on the beach, and it’s certainly not the guy I’ve gotten to know so well.

A silence falls over us, and Jade lets out a sigh, turning to look at Flynn. He steps away slightly, and I watch his whole demeanor change around her. He’s unhappy, and it’s so damn obvious to everyone but Jade. She doesn’t give a shit about him, but he’s the reason she is where she is today.

“I gotta go check in at the judges’ booth,” Flynn mutters bitterly, looking over his shoulder. He begins to walk, and Jade jogs to catch up to him, and being the nosy bitch that I am, I can’t let this play out without hearing every word of it.

“Oh my god, you’re judging?” she shrieks, slipping an arm through his, and again, I see his entire body tense with disgust. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll totally join you.”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Flynn hisses through clenched teeth. “And they didn’t ask you to judge. They asked me, so why don’t you just join the others in the stands.”

“Oh my god, Flynn,” Jade wails, rolling her eyes and letting out an over-the-top giggle. “You know I can’t sit in the stands. People will recognize me, and I won’t get a second to myself.”

“That would be horrible,” Flynn mutters under his breath, but I catch every word of it. It goes over Jade’s head, though, and as Flynn’s gaze crosses mine, I wink at him, seeing him smile a real smile for the first time since Jade showed up here.

She acts like she’s a fucking celebrity starring in some epic Hollywood production. She’s a fucking surfer, and a female one at that. Despite all the women who came before us and how they opened doors and fought for equality in the sport, we’re still not as recognizable as the men.

“You can come with me,” I tell Jade against my better judgment. “I’m going to be over on the sidelines helping the kids get ready.”

“See, Flynn,” Jade quips, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed in annoyance. “She gets it. What’s your name again?” She turns to look at me, hitting me with that same condescending smile from before.

“It’s Alana.”

A part of me wants to tack on that she should remember my name because in two weeks I’m going to be handing her ass to her out on the water. But I hold back, not needing to make enemies with one of the biggest female surfers in the world. She’s making it really easy to dislike her, though, and it’s not just because of Flynn.

We walk over to where the kids are lined up under the tent, chatting and laughing. I remember when surfing was like this. Fun and friendly; it was a place to meet new people and chat about something we all had in common.

Now it feels like everything’s a secret, and everyone is competition, and while I know that’s partially true, it doesn’t have to be that way.

A little girl wearing an oversized Pipe Dream T-shirt comes running up to me, a marker in one hand and a magazine in the other. She’s absolutely beaming, a huge smile on her tanned and freckled face, and she stops, a toothy grin on display as she says, “Will you sign this for me?”

“Oh my god!” Jade barks out, shielding her face as if she doesn’t want people to see her. She lets out a hard sigh. “I’m even getting noticed over here.”

I turn to look at her, narrowing my eyes, and I can’t help it, the words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “Your struggle is profound.” And now it’s me letting out the hard sigh. I have no idea how Flynn deals with her. She’s like a spoiled child, but she’s too old for this kind of shit.

“That’s so cute!” Jade now croons, changing her tune on a dime as she turns to look over at the little girl. “You probably want me to sign this, not her.” She laughs, but it’s completely humorless, taking on a quality that says she thinks she’s better than me.

“No, I want Alana to sign it,” the girl instantly replies, and in perfect little kid fashion, she adds on, “I don’t even know who you are.”

She holds out the marker and the magazine for me, and although Jade is pretending she doesn’t care, I watch her gaze travel over the magazine cover, taking in the picture quickly before she looks away.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” I ask the little girl, and when she tells me, I add it along with a note of encouragement before signing my name.

Handing it back to her, I smile, telling her to have fun, and she returns the smile before running off to show her friends.

“How funny was that?” Jade says, rolling her eyes. “That kid wanted your autograph, and you’re, well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a nobody. She must have mistaken you for someone else, huh?”

Holy shit, she’s about as likable as hugging a cactus, and I’m not even sure how to respond to her. Don’t take it the wrong way? Is there any other way to take that comment? It was pretty much an intended insult, and I’m trying not to let it bother me.

But it is.

“She wanted my autograph because she does know who I am,” I state, duly irritated now.

Just because Jade doesn’t know who I am doesn’t make me a nobody. I’m a role model to these girls, and I love it. I want them to grow up and remember all the fun times we had together at the surf school and how I surfed Maui Pipe as an amateur. I want them to see it’s possible.

“And who are you?” Jade fires back, still obviously insulted that she got dissed by a six-year-old.

“I’m surfing Maui Pipe too.”

This comment pretty much knocks her on her ass, her mouth falling open in complete surprise, and I love it.

“What?” Her word comes out between clenched teeth, and it’s hard not to smile at her bothered annoyance.

How could this trashy local be in the same category as her? She just can’t wrap her head around it, but she doesn’t need to. I’m of no concern to her because she’s so wrapped up in her own world that I might as well be invisible.

“I was brought in as an amateur after I won a local comp here,” I tell her, waiting for her snide, backhanded insult that she likes to think is a compliment.

“That’s so cute,” she says, her words laced with poison, spat out, and sour.

And I swear to god, if she says “that’s so cute” or “oh my god” one more time, I’m going to punch her in the throat.

“So that’s why I don’t know you. You’re not even ranked, but that’s okay. It’s still cool that you get to give it a try, right?” Every word out of her mouth is an intentional insult designed to make me feel small.

What she doesn’t know is that my entire life has been like this, from my mother and her string of useless boyfriends to all the people who thought I’d never make it as a surfer. I will hold a grudge against this girl forever. It won’t be until I kick her ass that she will remember my name, but after that, she will never forget it. The second I hit the water at Pipe, she will be the only thing on my mind.

“Right,” I reply with a disgruntled laugh, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from saying what I really want to say.

“Who’s your coach?” she now asks, and I can’t even believe she’s talking to me. But it’s all so she can continue to belittle me, and I’ll play along, letting her feel like she’s winning.

“I don’t have a coach,” I admit, and this is exactly what she was hoping I would say. “I train on my own and with some friends.”

I don’t know why I add in this last part. She doesn’t need to know this, and what I really want to tell her is that I’ve been training with her coach.

“Oh my god, seriously?” she croons, almost like she actually feels sorry for me.

How could anyone possibly get better if they don’t have a coach? How could someone make it to Pipe without the support of a well-known name?

“Flynn is great,” she now tacks on, looking over her shoulder to where the judges’ booth is, a wistful smile on her face. “He’s just so…so great.” She smiles at me, tight-lipped and icy as she leans in a little closer to me and stage whispers, “And he’s great in bed too.”

And with that comment, she walks away, leaving me feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach. The air leaves my lungs in a rush of an exhale, shocked and hurt.

There’s no way she’s sleeping with him.

No. Fucking. Way.

I saw the way he looked at her when she showed up here. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, the longing and lust glowing in his ocean-blue eyes.

But then there’s that small part of me that expects to be hurt, like the world is still working against me, but I hope Flynn isn’t part of that.

The rest of the competition goes off without any issues and I don’t see Jade again. A part of me hopes I don’t see her until Maui Pipe. I’m not sure I can deal with her brash, overconfident nature for another minute. I have no idea how Flynn stands her, but then I remember, he’s getting paid to be around her. That might make it a little easier to swallow.

I don’t see Flynn either, not going out of my way to say goodbye to him or to tell him he did a great job as a judge before I leave. That’s Nate’s job to thank him for helping out, and I let Nate handle that, even if it’s the last thing I want to do.

Jade’s words continue to play out in my head, loud and echoing, and I hate that I’m second-guessing what happened between Flynn and me. Thinking there was more there than just a fling, and maybe I misread it all. Every touch. Every kiss. Every word.

And he’s great in bed too.

I want to vomit at her words, and as much as I’m telling myself not to be hurt, I am. My heart aches, painful and throbbing, feeling so stupid. And the worst part is that I can’t even tell Daisy or Sloane or Sage what happened.

I need them right now.

But it will all stay locked up.

I remind myself that I don’t need the drama right before Maui Pipe. Jade is enough drama all on her own with all those spiteful comments and her intentional mention of sleeping with Flynn. It’s like she could see it on my face, my interest in him, and knew how to get under my skin even more.

I try to let it go, but I just can’t.

And I find myself picking up my phone, shooting him a text that feels desperate but needed.

Me: Are you fucking Jade?

Flynn’s reply is almost instant, the telltale bubbles popping up, never stopping for a fraction of a second.

Flynn: What? Fuck no! Did she tell you that?

Me: She did.

Flynn: I need to see you, Alana. Come to me.

Suddenly, I feel breathless, my heart slamming hard in my chest, thumping loudly in my ears as a surge of desire shoots through me at his words.

I want to go to him, but I can’t. We can’t keep doing this. We both know it’s wrong and now with Jade here, the risk is even higher.

He’s like an obsession to me, and it isn’t just the sex, but fuck knows, that it’s so damn good it could bring any straight woman to her knees, begging for more.

His message is on the screen, reading it over and over, I debate it in my head. All the reasons I shouldn’t, all the reasons I should, playing out.

And not one of them feels like the right answer.

Me: We can’t.

As soon as I send the message, the tears spill from my eyes. Overwhelmed and exhausted, I find myself sobbing into my pillow, unable to control it.