I never told Matteo that I overheard him that day, never told anyone. Even now, he has no idea why I can’t stand him. And I think that’s why he keeps coming back—his ego.
The phone rings, startling me, and Shawn strolls over to pick it up, announcing they’ve reached the Surf Shack switchboard. She listens before lifting her eyes in my direction. It must be about me.
“Sorry,” Shawn says into the phone. “She’s a little busy right now, Sheriff Castillo. But I’ll let her know.” I roll my eyes. I have no desire totalk to my uncle right now. Shawn fights back a smile. “No, of course she’s not standing right in front of me.”
I cover my mouth, listening as Shawn uh-huhs her way through the conversation. Just as she hangs up, Tech comes over to join us.
“Seems lover boy’s boat is ready to be picked up,” Shawn announces.
“Picked up?” I ask, checking the empty spot at our dock. “Why? I thought they were dropping it off here. They said it’d be back around five.”
“Isn’t it fun to deal with the government?” Shawn asks. “At least the sheriff said we can use his trailer to pick it up. You want to come along? I’m sure your uncle wouldn’t mind the chance to scold you some more.”
I laugh, softly. “No, you two go ahead,” I say. “I’ll stay back here and watch our boards.”
“Yeah,” Shawn says with a grin while Tech goes to grab the car keys. “I’m sure that’s what you’ll be watching.”
CHAPTER TEN
—JAMIE
The water is cool againstmy skin, the rhythm of the waves pulsing beneath me as I paddle farther out. I forgot how much I loved surfing. It’s been a while since I’ve felt the rush of a good wave, the wind stinging my face, the endless blue. Above me, pelicans glide effortlessly, dipping and rising with the breeze.
I meant what I said. I’m glad I got to see Noa again. Be near her again. But it’s all still too raw, so close to the surface that it stings. That it hurts us both, even if underneath all that pain is a heart beating only for each other. And that’s why I know I need to stay away. Again.
There is a howl of joy, and I glance around until I find Matteo farther down the beach, carving through the water with ease. He’s really good—annoyingly good. I have a flash of jealousy when I wonder if Noa taught him how to surf too. But it’s more likely he had some ex-pro teach him at a thousand dollars per hour because he’s out here like he owns this entire stretch of ocean. His movements are sharp and controlled, the waves bending to his will.
And still, I have no idea why he’s doing this. There are better bits of coastline for surfing, and I know he’s got high-end boards at home, even if the one I grabbed him is pretty decent for a rental. I just keep comingback to why he’s here, and I’m just not sure. Was it to see Noa? Why, when she’s clearly not interested?
I keep trying to understand. My eyes flicker to Noa, standing outside the Surf Shack with this kind of laid-back posture that proves she’s been on this beach her whole life. That she belongs here.
With the next wave, I stand up, riding it until it crests and landing softly between two rolls. When I resurface, the board pops up next to me, connected to my ankle. I take a beat to catch my breath. The water is definitely a little bit rough today, the undercurrent pulling me downwind.
Watching the beach, I see Jordan and Hailey lying on the sand, probably looking at their phones. They’re not even trying to enjoy the day. Such a waste.
I pull myself up on my board again before something catches my eye. I see Matteo well past the waves, just sitting on his board and messing with his ankle strap. Then he takes it off and tosses the cord behind him.
“What the hell is he doing?” I murmur. Losing the board this far out would be a disaster—the water is too deep, the current too strong. Besides, it’s not even his board to lose.
I start to paddle toward him, although the current is fighting against me, pushing me away. “Matteo!” I call, my voice sharp as it cuts through the surf. “Watch your board!”
Matteo looks over at me, his mouth curling into a lazy smile. He holds up a finger to his lips, making the universal “keep it a secret” motion, like we’re in on some joke together.
Without a word, he hops into the water. Then he uses both hands to send the board out toward the open ocean.
My stomach twists. He can’t do that—I can’t just let him get away with that.
I glance down at my board, realizing it would be too hard for me to bring both in by myself. Matteo needs to grab one of them. Before he can get too far, I paddle again and start kicking my legs, doing my best to get over the waves. Matteo starts swimming back toward shore.
“Stop!” I shout, my voice rough with frustration. “Matteo, stop!”
He doesn’t even look back at me. While he’s casually swimming in, his board is sliding quietly away on the current. My heart starts to race, knowing that it might already be too late.
I turn for the beach, ready to drag that asshole back out to find the board. Matteo is ahead of me, but I paddle harder, hoping to catch him. Water lashes my face as I seesaw over the waves, crashing down on the other side.
Up ahead, Matteo stands up and starts walking out of the ocean, rubbing his palm over his shaved head. When it’s clear he doesn’t have his board, I see Noa run toward him, her feet kicking up sand as she sprints, panic in her expression.
I’m nearly to the shore, out of breath. Noa is frantic as she reaches the group.
