A knot of something hard inside me loosens slightly. I haven’t been anywhere since my three days in Greece with Eloise on her hen do, and that was a blur of cocktails and nights out, giggling like loons. Before that, I can’t even remember the last time I had a proper holiday. Between Mum getting sick, then dealing with the aftermath and meeting Dean, I suppose I never had the time. I didn’t even go to Dubai. How stupid I was.
“Hey, g’day. You just arrived?” A weight joins mine on the padded bench. I turn to see one of the group of people watching the surfers has sat down near me. He’s tall, though not as tall as Myles, with messy sandy hair and a cheeky smile. He’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts, his feet bare.
“Um, yeah.” I meet his smile with my own. “Got here a few hours ago.”
“You English?” His eyebrows raise.
I nod.
“I’m from Sydney,” he says. “Spent a year or so in London, though. Great place.”
“It’s not too bad. But it’s nothing compared to this.” I wave my drink at the view, feeling ridiculously relaxed. Surfer boy is pretty cute.
“I’m Jared,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Zara.” I take his hand, shaking it. He holds it maybe a moment too long before letting go, his sea-blue eyes meeting mine. I take another sip of my drink, hiding my blush. “Have you been staying here long?”
“A couple of days.” He nods over his shoulder at the group of people. “We’ve been travelling along the coast, filming some surf promo stuff, you know?”
“You’re a pro surfer?” Shit. Myles is pretty well known in the surfing world. I wonder if he’ll mind being recognised.
Jared shakes his head. “Videographer and photography. I love to surf, but didn’t quite have what it takes to turn pro. What about you? You surf?”
“No,” I say, laughing. “I don’t. I’d like to try one day though. It looks like fun.”
“Maybe I can take you out sometime, you know? Just to give it a go. You can’t come all this way and not get in the water. Plus those waves can be pretty strong. Better to be with someone.” He winks at me.
He isverycute. Just what the rebound gods ordered. I bite back a giggle, thinking of Eloise. She’d be cheering me on right now, I’m sure.
“Sounds nice,” I say, sipping my drink. I might still have to be “work Zara” when I’m with Myles but right now, sitting with a cool drink and a hot surfer on the African coast, I feel as though I could be someone else as well. The someone who’s going to live by the ocean one day, who’s going to achieve her dreams, no matter what.
The someone who isn’t going to let a little heartbreak hold her back.
It’s a nice feeling.
Myles
The water is cool, sliding like silk across my skin as I coast back in, letting the waves take me to shore. A surf was exactly what I needed, the salt hiss of the waves washing away my irritation, calming my longing for Zara. There’s something about sitting on a board, riding the swell as though it’s a great beast beneath you, the rise and fall of the waves like a breath moving in and out, that tends to put things into perspective. Even though there are other surfers out here, we are each our own small island amid a vast sea. It’s humbling to face a power greater than your own, but that’s part of surfing. You have to surrender to the ocean in order to ride her.
I stand, pick up my board and head across smooth sand towards the path at the base of the cliff, pausing to unzip my wetsuit and roll the top down around my hips, the heat stifling once I’m out of the water. As I near the hotel I glance up at the balconies, but Zara is no longer there. I wonder what she’s doing.
The security guard nods to me as I pass through the gateway leading into the hotel grounds. I walk past the BBQ area, then pause.
A woman, her red skirt tucked up so her long legs are revealed, is sitting on one of the cushioned benches. She’s laughing, a drink in her hand, the sun glancing off her smooth brown hair. I would recognise that damn ponytail anywhere.
It’s Zara.
The guy she’s sitting with leans in, laughing as well. Myhand clenches into a fist. I lean my surfboard against a wall and head down into the BBQ area, trying to hold onto that Zen feeling I’d found in the waves, the calm of the deep ocean. But it’s difficult when someone has his hand on Zara’s arm, and is making her smile like that.
Fucking hell. I need to calm down. Zara doesn’t belong to me. And I told her to go and relax. I shake my head and make a right turn to the bar, where I ask for a mineral water. I take a few sips, wondering what the hell I’m doing. Maybe I should just go back to my room, take a shower and look over my notes for the meeting tomorrow.
“Myles?”
Damn. I turn around.
Zara is standing there, haloed by the sun like some sort of red-robed angel, sent to tempt me. She’s biting her bottom lip. Christ.
“Hey, Zara,” I say, much more calmly than I feel.
