“What the hell?” Jade’s face lights up even more, and she whirls to the board, her hand caressing its smooth length. She flashes another green glance at me. “Do you know how much these are worth? Where’d you get it?”
“Yes.” Honesty, again. “I do know how much they’re worth. Uh, can I help you with something?” I nod towards the damaged board at her feet. It’s the one I saw propped up against the cabin veranda, if I needed any more confirmation that this is my latest guest.
Interesting, though. I stepped away from the world of surfing a while ago, yet I still keep up with bits and pieces of news. And Jade seems to be one of those girls who has it all. Talented, rich, beautiful, dating another surfer. Travelling the world and living her dream. But I know that things aren’t always as they appear. I remember the sound of her crying, her first night here. And I wonder what storms lie behind that green gaze of hers.
“Oh. Yeah. My board. It got damaged yesterday.” Her expression darkens. “I’m hoping you can fix it. At least, someone told me you could.”
“They did?”
“Yeah.” Her frown deepens. “Look, if it’s not what you do, I can just buy another board or something. I’ll take the Axe. It looks about the right size for me.”
The Axe is about the right size for her. In fact, it would suit her perfectly. But something about the way she’s speaking is putting my back up. I don’t like entitled people; I’ve had to deal with more than enough of them in my life, and it’s not how I like to live. Just because she’s a famous surf star doesn’t mean she can come in here and demand I sell her my board.
She peers around me, to the back room of the workshop. Her eyes widen again. “Holy shit.” She goes past me, through the doorway, before I can stop her.
Pushing down a surge of irritation, I hurry after her. “Sorry, the workshop is off limits. You can’t just?—”
It’s too late. She turns to me. Her throat moves. “You’re Axel Black.”
I don’t say anything.
She turns back to the rack filled with surfboards, all different shapes and lengths. All Black Axe boards. All shaped by me.
“Are you kidding me?” She slides a board from the rack, her hands careful on the gleaming fibreglass curves. “This is fucking gorgeous. I know, like, ten surfers who would pay a fortune for this.”
“The boards aren’t for sale.” My voice is clipped, the words painful. “Put it back.”
She looks at me, her brows drawing together. “I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand. I’ll fix your board for you. No charge. In return, you don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that there are any boards here.”
She chews on her lip, her jade gaze darkening. Storm clouds approaching, I think, irrationally, as she slides the board carefully into the rack and comes towards me. Her frangipani scent curls in my nostrils.
“And why,” she says, “do you think I’m going to tell people about you?” Her words are calm, but there’s an undercurrent thread of danger.
“Because that’s your thing, isn’t it? Social media, promotion. All that shit. Chasing likes and engagement. I’m sure a post about me would do great numbers for you. I don’t know why you don’t just concentrate on surfing; you’re pretty good at it.”
She huffs out a short breath. Her eyes narrow, and something travels between us, sharp like lightning. I swear I can smell ozone. “You don’t knowanythingabout me, or why I do the things I do,” she snarls. It’s like facing a tiger, terrifying and exciting at the same time.
I take a step towards her. “That’s the deal. Leave the board, and don’t say a word.” I’m so close to her she has to look up. Her lips part, and desire surges through me, sudden and shocking. I want to kiss her.
“I wouldn’t say anything.” Her voice is low, vicious. “And I’ll pay you for the repair.” She brushes past me, so close our shoulders touch. A moment later I hear the door jangle. She’s gone. But there’s still a faint scent of frangipani in the air, like flowers bruised after a downpour.
I feel bruised, as well. Yet there’s something invigorating about the feeling, a sharpness I haven’t felt in a long time.
I go out front. Jade’s board is where she left it. I pick it up, and take it back into the workshop.
But as I run my fingers along the rails, across the smooth surface, it’s almost like I’m touching her.
I pull my hand back as though it’s burnt.
Jade
What the actual fuck? This island is full of surprises, one after the other. But findingAxel Blackhere, of all people? That was definitely not on my “take some time away and get over Zach” bingo card. I wander back along the road to the compound, my mind whirring.
The Black Axe board was unmistakeable, as soon as I saw it. The logo, first of all; a small black axe with Axel’s signature in curling writing, following the edge of the board. But also the board itself. Axel’s surfboards are known for their smooth lines and fluid shapes, like something found in the ocean, a remnant of an aquatic creature rather than anything created on land. It’s part of the reason why they’re so popular.
The other part is the mystery.
