Page 18 of The Sun & Her Burn

What did I have to offer her when I knew in my bones I would never fully recover from the loss of the Meyerses?

So I flashed her my trademark grin and teased, “I hope you are ready for me to kick your ass,trottolina. I have improved much in the years since you taught me to surf.”

Her laugh was loud and belly-deep, head tipped back so her gold hair streamed over her shoulder, pooling in her lap.

And I thought,Yes, this is enough to fill me up.

5

SEBASTIAN

“Why were you so angry at the restaurant the other day?” Linnea had asked after two hours of showing me up on her shortboard, carving through the water as if she had been born to ride the waves.

We were mostly just bobbing in the ocean past the break, feet dangling in the cold, wetsuits rolled down to our waists so we could catch some winter sun on our skin. It was hard not to stare at her, the salt crystals and droplets glistening on her tanned skin like jewels. Her hair was darkened to flax and pushed away from her forehead in a way that highlighted her huge eyes and dark brows, her cheeks and lips pink from the excursion. Though she was slender, she had large breasts that were barely contained in the small white triangles of her bikini, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to admire them like a teenage boy.

She was so unlike Savannah or any of the women I had dated since, whose femininity was cultivated beautifully, like a piece of orchestra music, a collection of notes and instruments built together in perfect harmony.

Linnea was just herself, so without artifice that she reminded me of myself when I had first moved in with the Meyerses. It hurt a bit, that constant reminder of how young and foolish I’d been, but it was healing too because nothing about Linnea was foolish. Her lack of airs was deliberate, not a consequence of youth, and she was utterly confident in herself, sitting barefaced on a board or done up in a trendy LA bar. Her beauty was as natural as the sun shining above us in the cerulean bowl of the sky and the glitter of blue water below.

She liked herself, it seemed, and when so many people struggled to feel the same, it was intoxicating to be around.

It made me like myself a little more, too, somehow.

“I was being interviewed by a woman I considered a…friend until she informed me of some rather salacious gossip about an old acquaintance,” I admitted.

Linnea rested her hands behind her on the board, tipping her face farther into the sun the way one might do in a shower, to saturate herself in it.

“What was it? You don’t have to answer, but you know I have to ask,” she paused to dip her chin down and offer me a cheeky grin. “I’m an invasive species. I want to know everything.”

“About everyone?” I teased.

“About you,” she countered with a slight shrug. “About the people I care for.”

I swallowed thickly, surprised by my desire to share with her when I knew my history was better served staying buried six feet deep in the past.

“There is a rumor going around about Adam Meyers,” I said quietly. “It was hard to hear.”

“Oh,” Linnea’s brow furrowed as she adjusted on the board, sweeping her legs back through the water as she adjusted to sitting on her knees, her balance so perfect that she barelywobbled. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

I snorted. “He would not want my help. We haven’t spoken in…Dio mio, ten years.”

She cocked her head, squinting at me through the harsh sunlight. “Are you sure? I know that I wouldn’t have turned any friend away when I first arrived in Los Angeles, alone and new in a city that overwhelmed me to take care of a mother who barely tolerated me even when she remembered me.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around for you.”

“But you were,” she countered. “You sent me postcards every couple of weeks, and they always made my day. Just because someone isn’t physically with you doesn’t mean they aren’t there for you in a hundred other ways that matter.”

I swirled my feet through the water to get closer to her, reaching out to catch the edge of her board. She instantly swiveled to sit on her bottom and drag her long legs over my board, effectively locking us together. I reached for her foot without thinking, cupping the high arch in my palm and giving it a squeeze. A little shiver rolled up her spine, a spark of electricity I felt mirrored in my own.

I wanted her badly, with a kind of intensity I hadn’t felt in years.

It shouldn’t have been shocking, really. She was stunning and inherently sensual, sweet and funny and candid in a way that made me feel both nostalgic and safe.

But even as the realization occurred, I shoved that desire into the deepest recesses of my gut.

There was no way I could fool around with Linnea and risk jeopardizing our friendship.

And the truth was, that part of me that had yearned to love and be loved had calcified around the memory of two people whowere inaccessible to me. I had tried to move on for ten years and failed enough to know that it just wasn’t in the cards.