She took another sip of beer.
“You should tell your dad,” Will continued. “It doesn’t matter if you end up going to Columbia. He would want to know.”
She looked back over at the trees. Leaving East Hampton, the bakery, and going back to school felt so huge, so complicated that she didn’t even know where to begin. But that one thing, that she could do. Maybe.
“It’s getting late,” she replied, setting her bottle down on the wood-planked porch. “I should head back to the motel soon.”
He watched as she sat up. “Same time tomorrow?”
She turned to him. “Don’t you have to get back for work or something?”
“I can take a few more days off. My name is on the building.” He cocked his head to the side. “What about you?”
She shrugged, ignoring how her heart stuttered in her chest. “I can take a few days off. My name is on the building, too.”
And then he laughed, the sound so deep that she felt it in her toes, and she couldn’t help but smile.
CHAPTER 28
It became a daily ritual. Lizzy would wake before dawn, drive her truck up Montauk Highway to the gravel road that led to Will’s house, then follow its narrow path through the switchgrass and oak trees of Amsterdam Beach State Park until she reached his private drive. They would spend the morning surfing, then stumble back to the house for lunch. By the time the sun set, she would be sitting beside him on his porch again, laughing and talking and praying that neither of them would notice the clock.
The first couple of mornings, she parked on the far side of the round driveway so she could offload her board and go directly down the stairs that led to the beach without having to walk too close to the house. She convinced herself that it made her less of a bother, that maybe he might not notice the rusty maroon truck parked next to his newer one.
That was easier than letting herself hope that he was waiting for her, insurance in case he didn’t show up in the water a few minutes after her.
But he always did.
By Wednesday, he insisted she just keep her board there through the week, that it was easier.
By Friday, she could recognize the sound of his gait on the creaking wooden steps without having to turn around.
Saturday, though, the fear that he wouldn’t show up was renewed. Lizzy eyed the dark clouds rolling above as she got out of her truck. The storm wasn’t set to hit Long Island for a few hours, and between now and then the waves were sure to be epic. But they would also be dangerous.
As she grabbed her board from where it rested against the shed and navigated the stairs down the bluff, Lizzy was struck by the memory of that morning after the storm in June. When she had encountered Will on the beach on her way to see Jane, her own stupid anger and annoyance had clouded their interaction. Yet she could still recall his warning about the surf and a storm. It would make sense that his caution could extend to this storm, too, that he might deem it too risky—
“I’m not sure about those clouds,” Will’s deep voice called out.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up and there he was, already on the beach. His wetsuit was pulled up his legs, but the rest hung around his waist, exposing his toned stomach, his strong arms.
“It’s fine!” she said, darting her eyes toward the surf, the sky, anything other than his body.
He sighed. “All right. But the minute I hear thunder, we’re out.”
In her periphery she saw him pull his suit up and zip the back. A bit of tension released in her core then. This was fine. She was in control.
Then he turned around and flashed that rare smile, unpracticed and gorgeous, and she realized she had never felt more out of control in her life.
He held out a fist and waited for her to do the same.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
An hour later, Lizzy’s muscles ached, her chest burned, and she couldn’t shake the smile stretched across her face.
The waves were large and unruly, coming one after another and growing with each passing minute, ready to drag you under or give you the best ride of your life. It was perfect.
Her board bobbed between her legs as she watched Will line up and start paddling when a swell approached. It was big, already cresting by the time he popped up, the hard line of his body bending toward the water for balance.
They would probably have to call it a day soon, she thought. The clouds on the horizon were growing darker, and the wind was churning up the sea spray—even she had to admit it was getting too dangerous.
