“Don’t forget your surfboard,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door. “The waves are supposed to be perfect today.”
Maybe it’s the perfect place to come up with a plan.
And I need an escape.
My sandals are in my hand as I kick on the sand, watching the grains float off my feet.
I’ve spent so many warm summer days playing on the beach with my sisters. Each day I have adored it. But today, the blackness in my heart seems to override the sunshine that warms my skin.
Xander’s roomie, Cole, gives me a wave as I stroll along the beach. He is straddling his surfboard, getting ready to take the next wave.
Milly’s friend and Con’s sister, Frankie, sit on their boards beside him. Both waiting to paddle out.
The sunlight glistens on the waves like diamonds.
I wave back at Cole.
I like Cole. Not only because he is built like an Olympic swimmer. All long lean tanned muscles glistening in the sun or sometimes glistening with sweat after he’s used Dom’s home gym when he comes to the house with Xander.
I like him because he’s always kind to me.
“Amara,” Poppy yells behind me.
I spin as she gets out of the car with her father.
Caleb smiles and I give him a weak smile in return.
The way he moves does things to my body. The way the muscles in his back stretch out the back of his shirt. He isn’t a big man, not muscular anyway, not gym honed, he is more like a man who enjoys a run in the park.
But I can’t think about him right now.
I take my mobile from my back pocket. Flicking through my contact list and stopping at my father. “What am I going to do?” I whisper-hiss. But unlike Milly, I can’t take my problem to his doorstep. I just can’t do it.
How can I?
“You okay?” A deep voice asks.
I squeak and my eyes dart to him. “Oh, Caleb, you scared me.”
He holds my arm, his thumb strokes over my elbow. It’s a soothing touch, like he truly cares how I am.
I smile, but I know it is weak.
“Sit down,” he says. “You look like you’ll collapse if you walk any further.”
I do as I’m told.
Always doing as I’m told.
“I never expected you to walk on the beach,” I say. He is wearing a pair of board shorts and a tee-shirt and looks a lot less professor-like than he normally does.
“There’s lots about me you don’t know. And there’s lots about you I expect you like to keep to yourself.”
I chew on my lip and wonder why he is being so cryptic. Normally, the professor is more direct.
“I suspect you’re right,” I reply.
His strong chest rises and falls quickly, his gaze penetrating me through his dark sunglasses, but I can see his eyes staring into mine.
