Page 7

I spend the morning driving around the island, distracted by thoughts of Alana and all the things we did last night. All the things I want to keep doing with her, even knowing I shouldn’t.

There’s just so much about her that turns me on, and I want to spend more time with her. Not just having sex, although that is pretty fucking awesome, but also getting to know her. Getting to surf with her.

And convincing her to surf Maui Pipe, even if it does mean what she and I are doing is a really, really bad idea.

Not that anyone has to know, of course. And I mean, it is just sex, and I’m only here for like three weeks and then I’ll be leaving, heading to Oahu and then California for Jade’s next competitions.

Which, of course, Alana could totally be surfing in too if she does well at Maui Pipe.

I didn’t see much of her form yesterday, but from what I did see, it’s obvious she has a heap of natural talent. It’s like she was born to surf, like her board is a part of her. The only thing that surprises me about it all is why she isn’t already a pro.

I’m not sure how old she is. Probably something I should find out, but she’s clearly older than Jade, who is a pro and the current world champ. Fuck, I turned pro when I was like sixteen, nearly nine years ago now.

Just before the turnoff to Pe’ahi, I pass by a food truck on the side of the road, my stomach rumbling as if to remind me I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. Pulling over, I park before joining the line that’s already waiting to order.

“Hey, what’ll it be?” a guy about my age, wearing a backward baseball cap, asks when I reach the front.

I glance up at the menu. “What do you recommend?”

“Garlic and coconut shrimp are our two best sellers,” he replies. “You wanna try a combo plate?”

“Sure, sounds good. And maybe a bottle of water too?”

“Coming right up,” he says as he indicates the square to tap my card on. As I move to the side to wait for my food, I pull my phone from my pocket, opening up the message app.

Me: What time should I meet you?

The bubbles to indicate her reply pop up immediately, and I don’t miss the way my heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipating her response.

Alana: When are you free?

Me: Now. I’m just grabbing some food at this food truck before Pe’ahi.

Alana: The shrimp place? Ask Matt to make me a garlic shrimp plate. I’ll meet you there.

Smiling, I walk back over to the van. “So, I don’t suppose you’re Matt?”

The guy grins, sticking his hand out. “Sure am.”

Chuckling, I shake his hand. “Alana asked me to get her an order of garlic shrimp. Can you add that to mine?”

Matt chuckles. “Sure thing. You want me to hold off on both till she gets here?”

“Yeah, thanks, that would be great,” I tell him. “We’re gonna head out to Pe’ahi to surf after,” I say, not even sure why I’m telling this guy that.

Matt whistles. “She’s getting back into it, huh?”

“Training?” I ask, wondering if everyone I meet knows about Alana.

“Yeah,” Matt replies. “I know she stopped when Mitch died, even though we all thought she should continue. I get it’s hard, but fuck she has talent. That’s her by the way,” he adds, pointing to a framed cover of a very well-known surf magazine hanging on the wall of the truck.

“She made the cover of Surfer ?” I ask, unable to hide the shock in my words. I knew Alana was good, but fuck, that is next level good.

“Yep,” he says with a smile as he looks at the framed cover. “That’s her surfing the winning wave that got her into Maui Pipe.”

“Jesus,” I murmur.

Matt turns back to me. “It’s good she’s surfing Pe’ahi. It means she’s definitely still considering it. Are you like?—”

“I’m just surfing with her,” I quickly say, not wanting him or anyone to read too much into whatever this is that I’m doing with Alana. I don’t think he recognizes me, but I can’t be sure. He’s clearly a surfer too.

“Cool,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Take a seat, and I’ll get you your food.”

“Thanks, man,” I say as I make my way over to one of the picnic tables.

While I wait for Alana, I spend the time Googling her on my phone, having seen her last name on the cover of that magazine. When the search results load, my eyes widen at all the hits, my heart pounding when I see the profile they ran on her in the magazine, the author calling her “the freshest new talent he’d seen in years.”

How the fuck have I not heard of her before now?

I read through the article, sucking in as much information as possible on this woman I can’t seem to stop thinking about.

“Still stalking me, huh?”

My head whips up to find Alana standing beside me, reading over my shoulder, a smile on her face. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were this good?” I blurt out. “I mean, I knew you were, but shit, you made the cover of Surfer magazine and this profile they did, it’s…it’s…”

“It’s whatever,” Alana says, waving it away.

I stand from the table, turning to face her. “It’s not whatever, Alana,” I say quietly. “This is big. You are?—”

“Hungry!” she says, tipping her head toward the van. “Shall we?”

I blink at her seeming modesty at all of her achievements as we make our way over to where Matt is holding two boxes of food. Alana thanks him, throwing me a quick glance when he tells her I’ve already paid for it before we head back to the table to eat.

“So,” she starts, as she stabs her fork into her food. “What have you been up to this morning?”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head a little. “Not much except for spending the last twenty minutes trying to come up with a way to convince you to surf the Maui Pipe,” I say, meeting her gaze across the table. “Seriously, Alana, you have to do this.”

She holds my gaze, a small smile on her face as she watches me. Eventually, she grabs another forkful of food before saying, “You seem really invested in this now.”

“Ah, yeah, I kinda am,” I say with a laugh. “And apparently I’m not the only one,” I add, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at the food van. Alana shrugs, not saying anything as she takes another mouthful of food. “What are you afraid of?” I finally ask, still watching her.

She rests her fork in her food, grabbing her water and taking a mouthful. Eventually, she looks at me, shrugging as she says, “I don’t know.”

I shake my head, not believing that for a second. “I think you do,” I tell her, my words soft.

She blows out a breath, her gaze turning to the ocean across the street. “I’m afraid of letting everyone down,” she says, her voice quiet. “Of failing and just being this huge disappointment.”

I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. I don’t miss the electricity that seems to crackle between us the second our fingers touch and from the way her eyes snap back to mine, I don’t think she does either.

“I get that,” I whisper, knowing all too well what failure feels like. “But I don’t think you’re going to.”

Alana scoffs, offering me a small smile as she says, “You’ve seen me surf, like, what, two waves?”

I smile, laughing a little. “Sure, but I’ve also been Google stalking you for the past twenty minutes, so I’m pretty sure what I did see was an accurate representation,” I say, squeezing her fingers. “You have real talent, Alana, and even if you don’t do as well as you hope, that’s not failing, not even fucking close.”

She swallows hard, her gaze locked with mine again as we stare at each other across this old wooden table. I want to beg her to compete, tell her I will do anything I can to help her, even if I know that is impossible.

She isn’t mine to coach, and more than that, I already coach someone. A competitor, no less, who would absolutely kick my arse if she found out about any of this.

“Well,” she eventually says, smiling at me. “I guess we better finish our lunch so I can start training.”

With a grin, I can’t resist lifting our joined hands to my mouth, biting her knuckles gently before pressing a soft kiss to them. “I guess we better,” I say, laughing as she blushes.

“What you think of it?” she asks, tipping her chin at my food. “This was Mitch’s favorite place.”

I smile at the mention of her coach as I stab my fork into the dish before shoving a mouthful of food in. My eyes close as my taste buds explode at how good it is, a low groan of appreciation falling from my mouth.

“Holy fuck, these are some good prawns,” I say.

Alana laughs, shaking her head at me as she says, “We call them shrimp over here, Aussie.”

After lunch, I follow Alana the short distance to Pe’ahi, pulling into park beside her. We get out and both strip down to our swimmers, Alana reaching for a rashie from the back seat. Before she pulls it on, though, I grab her by the hips, pulling her close.

“Hi,” I whisper, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth.

She smiles, her hands resting on my chest as she looks up at me. “Hi.”

My grip on her hips tightens a little as I pull her closer. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Alana laughs, looping her arms around my neck. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, brow narrowed in confusion.

“To get laid again,” she says with a smirk. “I’m pretty sure it’s a given at this point.”

“Hmmm,” I murmur, my arms wrapping around her waist now as I hold her close. “I’m not trying to do anything, Alana,” I whisper. “You do look beautiful.”

“Do you really just say this stuff to people?” she asks, still laughing.

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I just say it to you because it’s true.”

“Hmmm,” she says, smirking up at me again, like she doesn’t believe me.

Chuckling, I squeeze her waist as I drop my mouth so it’s hovering above hers. “I’m serious. You’re fucking gorgeous, Alana, and I like hanging out with you, not just having sex with you, okay? And I really can’t wait to see you out there on your board.”

Her smirk morphs into a smile now as something flashes on her face. “I like hanging out with you too, Flynn.”

My smile widens. “Well, in that case, shall we?”

We surf for a couple of hours, and my initial impression of Alana isn’t just right, it’s completely blown out of the water. She is fucking fearless when it comes to surfing, and that, combined with her natural talent, makes her a powerhouse on the waves. These waves, especially.

She looks like a pro, and honestly, I’d put money on her kicking arse at Maui Pipe and becoming one. Sponsors will be lining up to sign her, and she’ll have her pick of anyone and everyone, new coaches included.

“You look good out there,” I say, as we both tuck our boards under our arms and make our way up the beach.

She smiles, her cheeks flushing slightly as she turns to me. “You look pretty good out there too,” she says.

I smile back, knowing this is the perfect moment for me to tell her about me, about my past, and who I am, but I just can’t get the fucking words out. As shitty as it is, there’s a part of me that likes that Alana doesn’t know who I am, that she doesn’t know about my past and the accident that seems to fucking define me.

She talks about not wanting to feel like a failure or let everyone down, and that’s something I get because that’s exactly what I did and what I still feel now. And I just don’t want her to see me like that. So even though I know it’s a dick move, I don’t respond to her compliment and instead, change the subject.

“You wanna hang out tonight?” I ask, knowing I’m not ready for our time to be over.

Alana laughs, shaking her head as she says, “Can’t, I’m having dinner with the girls.”

“The girls?”

“Sage and my two roommates,” she says. “Actually, you should hang out with Nate tonight. He’s cool.”

I nod, wondering if maybe I can talk to him about a design for the board Tanner is making for me. It hadn’t been hard to convince Tanner, and I didn’t even need to mention Alana’s name or show him the card when I went to see him. Tanner had recognized me the second I walked through his door and was all about making me a board. “In case you wanna compete again,” he said, and he’d been so cool about it, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t likely to happen.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” I say. “And maybe you could come over after your dinner, sneak in when all the lights are out?”

I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting to be with her, just like I can’t seem to stop vocalizing this to her either.

Alana stops, her head tipped to the side as she watches me, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, maybe I will.”