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“I’ve still fucking got this.”
Dylan hooted.
Kyle slanted an amused look at Luke. “I think you may have created a monster, MacCallum.”
Her gaze gravitating to her surf instructor, Andy swallowed. Because, damn, if Kyle was the king of this place, then Luke was more like some scary-handsome sea god. Some otherworldly creature risen up from the depths to mingle with the mortals.
He wiped the water from his face with strong, sure hands, sparkling beads trickling down his forearms with the movement. Andy grew distracted by the artwork on his left one, the wild cluster of graphics there dominated by spirals in various forms. Shells. Whirlpools. Even a large sea serpent uncoiling itself, fangs out and ready to strike.
As Luke’s hands dropped, Andy was arrested by two more spirals: the brown-green swirls of his irises. Was it her, or did they look a little glowy right now?
Her chest rose and fell at whatever strange, glowy magnetism they were giving off.
“Nah,” Luke finally said in answer to his friend, “she already had it in her.” Andy smiled as Luke’s mouth tilted up at the corner. Then her surf instructor schooled his features and folded his arms over his chest. “Now it’s time to put up or shut up.”
Right.
Targeting the swell of water rising up ahead of them in the distance, Andy dropped back down to her board.
“Wait for it,” Luke cautioned. “Wait for it…” Then,“Paddle, Bird, Paddle!”
She paddled.
She paddled hard.
I’ve got this, I’ve got this, I’ve got this.The words were a litany in her head as she cut through the water.
She reached the wave just as the peak formed, no one else vying for it. This baby was hers. The rolling green carpet beneath her board began to spill over. Her palms hit the deck, and in one fluid motion Andy sprang up, knees bent, legs splayed, feet planted solidly on the waxed surface of the board.
Arms swinging out to her sides, Andy’s mind blanked as she felt it. The moment when — for the first time — the wave didn’t take her.Shetookit.
Though she could feel the power and energy of the breaking water propelling her. Could feel it under her board. Rising up through her legs, her torso, every wet length of hair whipping about her face.
Luke had drilled it into her to look where she wanted to go, so that’s exactly what she did. She looked straight down the line of the peeling wave, and she flew. She flew like the badass bird she was.
The ride probably only lasted ten seconds, but every freaking one of them was glorious, and when she felt the energy beneath her feet begin to wane, she knew immediately she wanted more of them. A lot more.
Sinking back down to her board as the wave spent itself, Andy could no more stop the roar of pure elation that tore from her than she could the next ecstatic beat of her heart.
Eyes squeezing shut, she thrust two fists into the sky and screamed like an absolute madwoman. When her lids blinked back open and she turned back to the lineup, she saw every one of her boys whooping and cheering in the distance.
Andy caught three more waves that morning before she reluctantly had to call it for work. She’d scheduled herself for day shifts the rest of the week, and she needed to open the shop in less than an hour.
Andy was half-laughing, half-panicking when she finally exited the water. Ripping the leash cuff from her ankle, she raced up the beach. Her surf instructor wasn’t far behind. Their boards hit the sand, and she lunged for him.
Luke was more than ready, excitement palpable in the long arms that embraced her. “Congratulations! You’re a surfing bird now. How’s it feel?”
Squeezing his chest, she grinned as a popular song blasting from a nearby radio caught her ear. Lizzo singing “Good As Hell.”
Andy pulled free and nodded towards the joyous sound. “That,” she said, “I feel that.”
Luke lifted her up — feet dangling over the sand — and she laughed as he spun her around.
“Oh god, put me down,” she managed between giggles. “I have to be at work in thirty-five minutes.”
Setting her down, Luke brushed off her concern with a snort. “This wouldn’t be the first time the shop’s opened late due to extracurricular activities. Why do you think Mare posted the sign on the door?”
There was indeed a small, artfully framed sign next to the store hours that read, “If these doors don’t open by ten, hang ten, dude, we’re surfing.”
