“Okay.”
Siena shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. “You’ve always been a pain in the ass. Making me work for shit. Remember that time you tried to block my ride because you said I was getting entitled and needed to swallow my arrogance?”
Rowan shrugged. “You needed a reminder. I saw my opportunity and took it.”
“Stealing my second-place spot. I didn’t talk to you for a week.”
“But I was right. You got better after that.”
“Fuck you.”
Everyone laughed and the tension disappeared. Their relationships were tangled with competition, friendship, and history. Sometimes it got messy, but they always came back together. Rowan knew beneath the surface was a lingering hurt, but she wasn’t going to heal anything with this one night. She was simply happy they were allowing her to slip back in without closing out her place.
From the water, someone whooped. Rowan turned toward the beach. Kelsey had paddled out a bit farther than usual, stretching her boundaries.
“Watch her,” Lea said softly. “That kid’s got balance. You teach her to read the swell, she’ll fly.”
Rowan followed them with her eyes. It was as if Kelsey had received Rowan’s internal message. Her frame was looser, face focused but not tight with stress, body leading the way. Unbelievably, Brie’s voice echoed over the ocean roar.
“Angle more down the line, not straight to shore!” Brie shouted.
Kelsey adjusted, wobbled, then popped up for half a second before tumbling. When she surfaced, she was laughing.
“Good recovery!” Rowan called, cupping her hands.
Lea grinned. “See? You’re still a coach, even when you’re pretending not to be.”
They watched the younger girls. Chelsea wasn’t in the same league as Brie, but she caught some solid waves and rode them in. Brie usually ignored everyone around her, total concentration always on her own run. But Rowan noticed she was instructing Kelsey in between rides. Kelsey fell over and over. She got up over and over, shaking off the water and the tumble with a positive energy one couldn’t teach. It was part of her—the easy acceptance of the ocean and whatever experience the next wave threw her. The tide was rising and the water glowed that impossible shade of blue-green that made her heart hurt.
The scene ached with perfection, reminding her of everything she’d turned away from.
Conversation drifted around her.
“Did you see that left reel off the reef?” Lea asked.
“Wind’s going southeast tomorrow,” Dani called, tucking hair behind her ear. “Gonna groom the faces clean.”
“Could be some overhead runners,” Siena said. “I’m switching to the fish—twin fin, extra foam for the speed.”
Rowan’s mouth curved. “Still riding that double concave with the swallow tail?”
“Of course,” Siena shot back. “Gives me lift without killing my down-the-line speed.”
“Old school,” Lea teased. “Ro, you’d like my mid-length single-fin. Smooth. Patient. Lets the wave do the work.”
Rowan shook her head, smiling. “I was never patient.”
“No,” Lea said quietly. “You were something better.”
Lea leaned close. “We still talk about that reverse cutback you pulled at Sunset. None of us could believe it. Legendary.”
Rowan sighed. “That was luck.”
“Luck doesn’t hold the rail like that.”
Her knee hurt as much as the memories. Of who she was in the water and on a board. Of who she wasn’t anymore. It was a tangled mess in her mind she couldn’t seem to sort out.
“The light is sick, I’m not missing this,” Dani said, jumping up with her camera and taking off toward shore. Siena followed, leaving her and Lea alone.
