“We’ll see.” Hunt lifts me up, walking around to the top of his bed to set me down. “Do you think we could find some more of those rug cleaning videos you like to watch?” he asks, and a smile peels across my face.
“I knew you were watching over my shoulder.”
Hunter laughs, pulling back the covers for me. “It’s hard to look away from how filthy some of them are. I swear they make them that dirty on purpose.”
I curl into his side, resting my head on his warm chest as I pull up the cleaning videos on my phone. Hunter wraps an arm around me, taking the phone to hold it where both of us can see. I hold onto his arm around me, sinking into the familiarity of this moment with him.
Maybe if I don’t let go of him, nothing will change, even if everything feels like it already is.
Hunter didn’t wake up when I rolled out of bed, and I took that as a sign his insomnia had kept him awake most of the night. He’s usually a light sleeper, but when he didn’t even stir, I left him to sleep a little longer while I changed into a swimsuit I keep here, and escaped to the one place where I can always clear my head.
I’m not surprised to see Thalia sitting in a rocking chair onthe wraparound porch, holding a mug of coffee in her hands as she watches the horizon. She turns toward me, hearing the squeak of the door as it shuts behind me. A warm smile forms on her face when we make eye contact, but there’s an unspoken agreement that in this moment, there’s nothing that needs to be said.
I don’t struggle with insomnia like most of the Walkers seem to, but I’ve always been an early riser.
Before the Walkers moved here full-time after Sebastian’s retirement, Thalia gave me a key to the shed where they store everyone’s surfing equipment for my fourteenth birthday. Henry’s had one for as long as I can remember, but after he went to college, it was a lot harder to find my way to the ocean at the crack of dawn.
My parents live inland, and despite having a pool in our backyard, I’ve always preferred the ocean. It always has a way of making me feel better, and my idea of a perfect day starts with surfing.
By bike, it would only take less than twenty minutes to get here, and with the key, I could surf any day of the year that I wanted to. The ocean seems to always make things better. Hearing the waves and feeling the breeze kiss my cheeks is something I’m not sure I can ever live without. It was one of the hardest parts of being at Duke the last two years because of how consumed by homesickness I would be when I would have to go longer than anyone should without taking a swim.
I leave my flip flops at the shed after grabbing my board, yet when I make it to the water, I’m frozen in my tracks at the sight of Bailey dragging in his board through the surf. He sets it in the sand and braces his hands on his knees.
Of course he’s awake.
The number of times we’ve surfed together on this beach is greater than I could ever hope to count, so I should have expected him to be out here.
Bailey straightens, dragging a hand through his hair, still not noticing me. It’s crazy how different he looks after being home for a month and a half, his lean body starting to fill out with the help of consistent meals. Even the way B carries himself is different.
Fuck, I know how wrong it is to be standing here watching him, noticing things I shouldn’t, but I’m frozen.
How different would everything be if he hadn’t pushed me away three years ago?
The question isn’t a fair one, but it’s haunted me more than I’d like to admit.
I can tell the moment he sees me because he rubs at his eyes like he can’t believe I’m standing here. “Kait?” he calls out, taking a few steps closer to me.
“Hey, Walker,” I greet, trying to sound as normal as possible. “How’s the surf?”
He smiles, and the soft morning glow makes him look like he’s straight out of a dream. “Nothing too crazy this morning. I think I’ve figured out how to stay on my board again.”
“Nice,” I say, nodding my head as I look around. I can spot a few other surfers in the distance, but this stretch of beach is private, so unless people take a boat out here, you can’t get to it any other way. “Is it cool if I join you?” I ask, dropping my water bottle in the sand next to his.
“You don’t have to ask me for permission. The ocean doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“Thanks,” I say, offering him a brief smile. I don’t expect him to wait for me while I pull my hair back into a French braid, tying it off with the hair tie on my wrist, but he still does.
My nerves are less frayed the second I start shuffling my feet through the shallow water, careful to avoid getting stung by a stingray since it’s their peak season. I can feel my head start to clear, my worries drifting to the back of my mind as Ifocus on paddling to get further out from the whitewater waves into deeper water.
The one thing I’m not able to avoid right now is Bailey, and I don’t want to. I wonder if he needs a distraction as much as I do.
I’m content to ride out the smooth waves this morning, appreciating the beautiful colors of the sky as the sun rises over the horizon. “You know, I’ve still never seen the green flash,” I say, glancing at Bailey a few feet away.
“Really?”
I shake my head, chewing on my lip. “I’ve tried. I think last summer I was out here every morning trying to see it. I’m starting to think it might be impossible.”
“I think I’ve only ever seen it twice. I promise it’s worth all the early mornings,” he says, and for all the times I’ve spent watching the horizon, knowing Bailey’s seen it twice tempts me into pushing him off the board and into the water. “So orange is still your favorite color?” B asks, the abrupt change in conversation catching me off guard.
