“I’m trying, sweetheart,” he said softly. “For Kels. For me. For ...” He trailed off.
Rowan didn’t want him to finish. “I’m not judging.”
“Thank you.” He locked her down with his stare, probing with curiosity. “Do you want to stay here forever? Have you ever traveled off the island and looked for more?”
Rowan shrugged. “I traveled a lot for comps. Spent time in far-off places with strange people and rooms. Dad allowed me to grow up on my own terms, as long as I was loyal to my values.” A ghost of a smile snuck out. “I used to miss the smell the most. Salt. Diesel. Garlic melting into wet reef and coconut sunscreen.” She inhaled and breathed deep. “I learned with every win and loss, but this is my home. I’ll never want to be anywhere else.”
He listened with a deep silence that made her feel heard. “And teaching is enough?” He said it carefully, like the words might bruise. “You’re not even getting paid.”
“It’s enough for now. I’m working my way through things. Not sure what’s on the other side.”
“What do you get out of it, though?”
Rowan gave a half smile. “I get to be in the water. I get to watch faces like hers when it clicks. My knee doesn’t hate me by bedtime. It’s a win.”
He nodded slowly. “I wasn’t minimizing.”
“I know.” She rubbed the edge of her thumb over a half-peeled callus. She wanted to pull the conversation back into the safe zone. Banter. Teasing. The place where they didn’t risk much.
Kelsey jogged back. “They found a crab that looks like a rock. It was a rock crab. That’s an actual thing.” She launched back into her campaign. “Dad, for real, will you take one surf lesson?”
“Maybe if Tino teaches me. Rowan’s a bit mean.”
Kelsey broke into giggles. “Mean can be good for you! He’ll do great, Rowan. He’s good at everything.”
“He’ll be insufferable,” Rowan said, laughing.
“I think I’m insulted,” Everett said. “But it’s hard to tell with the two of you.”
They walked back toward the car. “I don’t know if you’re the type.”
“The type?” Everett repeated. His tone lightened, joking on the surface. His eyes delved into hers in a way that asked for more.
“You know,” she said, waving a hand. “You like your schedules, but surfing eats time. Surfing ruins your plans and makes you late. It’s like falling in love with the wrong person who keeps charming you back and then you realize you’re addicted.” She gave him a smile to ease the sting. “You’re too ... structured. You could never really live in my world.”
Rowan told herself the words were meant to be a joke. A bumper sticker quip. She didn’t mean anything by it.
She meant everything.
They both needed the reminder. It was getting too intense between them, too fast.
Everett didn’t answer or defend. His mouth went still. Some small thing shuttered behind his eyes.
He looked past her to where Kelsey had dashed ahead again. He pulled in a breath and she watched his chest expand under the thin cotton of his shirt. He exhaled slow, then nodded once, more to himself than to her.
The silence stretched. Rowan’s stomach tightened. She reminded herself she didn’t owe him soft places. He didn’t owe her understanding. Besides, she wasn’t wrong. He spoke in a different language, and surfing was hers. She had to keep the lines sharp.
Everett walked beside her for a while without talking. Their hands had dropped to their sides. A new space settled between them, and it annoyed her how much she hated it.
They packed up their boards and got in the van. Kelsey chattered the whole way, but Everett was quiet. When she dropped them off, Everett’s smile was distant when they said goodbye.
Rowan returned to her quiet home. To Bagel. To the memory of her father. To the life she’d carefully cultivated.
And told herself she was happy.
Chapter Twenty-One
Everett tried to sleep but by midnight realized it was impossible. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and checked on Kelsey.
