27. Jenna
JENNA
I t’s nearly four o’clock by the time the guys finish tarping the roof, and Miles and I set off to the beach.
The rain passed, and the waves are much tamer, but the air is significantly cooler.
That summer reboot we’ve been experiencing is quickly becoming a distant memory.
Soon, there will be no more surfing. For me anyway.
I’m sure Miles will still be dragging himself out here mid-winter.
You might not be here to see it, I remind myself. I really need to make a plan.
Last night with Miles was downright magical.
It was the kind of night that doesn’t happen to me.
The kind of night where the man of your dreams makes you feel safe, protected, cherished…
seen. If this is just a fling for him, then Miles is a damn good actor, because I have felt nothing but cared for by him.
Now, I need to figure out what all this means for me.
“You ready?” Miles asks, grinning with excitement as he yanks the longboard off his roof rack. He passes it to me before getting his shortboard down.
I suck in a breath. “I’m anticipating the ice-cold water,” I admit.
Miles laughs. “Don’t worry. Cold water is great for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” I mutter, following him down the beach.
We crouch down and Miles passes me a block of wax. We get to work, waxing our boards. I’m silently worrying about how quickly daylight is disappearing, but I know Miles won’t let anything happen to me. I want to experience this with him.
“Let’s do it,” Miles says, after surveying the layer of wax on my board. “You’re getting good at that.”
The waves are baby, beginner waves like the ones I learned on, so paddling out is easy.
The icy water stings as my hands slice through it, but I quickly warm up.
Once we’re out past the break, we turn our boards toward the shore.
“Want to just sit for a bit?” Miles asks, looking up at the sky. “The sunset is amazing.”
He seems pensive tonight…quiet—it’s unnerving.
We decided that I’m staying with him until Danny gets the roof fixed, but I’m hoping he doesn’t have any regrets about that.
I haven’t yet let myself think about how I’m going to pay for any of this, but tapping into my 401(k) looks necessary.
Today though, I promised myself I would relax.
I’ll enjoy this time out here with Miles, try to see what he sees.
“The golden hour is my favorite.” My eyes catch on the soft golden glow on the water’s surface. The only sounds are the soft splashes from our feet dangling off our boards and the waves crashing against the shore.
“It’s a close second for me,” Miles says, glancing sideways with a wistful smile. Our boards are close enough together that I could reach for him. I let my fingers dangle on the surface instead. He reaches through the water and grips my hand. “I like the stars the best.”
“I can see why,” I say, looking up at the sky. The first twinkles of starlight are starting to show through the dusk sky.
Miles is quiet for a minute, and I debate whether to ask him what’s on his mind. He has been very affectionate, but I can tell that he’s lost in thought, too. He seems to be chewing on something, yet at the same time, he can’t stop touching me.
I shiver as he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Are you cold?” he asks gently.
“A little. I’ll be okay,” I tell him. “Maybe I need to invest in a warmer wet suit if you’re going to be dragging me out here into November,” I joke.
“I like the sound of that. I’ll get you one with a hood.” Miles smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He inhales deeply and says, “Jenna, can you tell me about your dad?”
This catches me off guard and my jaw falls slack. I shudder, bracing for the pain that never really goes away but that still shocks me every time. “What do you want to know?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“You said he died on this beach. Did he drown?” Miles meets my eyes, licking his lips.
I shake my head. “No. I don’t know much.
We were here all day, and then we packed up to go home.
I remember being tired and getting in the car while my parents packed up.
My dad must’ve forgotten something because he ran back down the beach.
Literally ran.” I shake my head. “I think a storm was rolling in.” I pause, glancing at Miles as a wave gently bobs us up and down again.
I swallow the lump rising in my throat. “He didn’t make it back. He had a heart attack on the shore.”
“A heart attack?” Miles repeats, a shadow of disbelief flickering across his features.
I suck in a breath. “Yeah.”
“That’s not what I expected you to say,” he admits, squeezing my hand. “I’m really sorry, Jenna.” And he looks it—devastatingly so—as if, all of a sudden, he’s seeing straight through the depths of my grief, right to my soul.
I shiver again. “I could never talk to my mom about it without her getting hysterical. Eventually, I just stopped asking.” I shrug. “Maybe I’ll get the courage to ask Aunt Leona more about it.” I pull my hand away and rub my arms to generate heat.
Miles nods. “Come on, you’re freezing. Let’s ride this next one in and call it a day.”
Our boards bob side by side with the swell of the waves, rising and falling in sync, as if the ocean itself is pulling us together.
We lie on our stomachs and start paddling, muscle memory guiding me.
My arms slice through the water churning in my hands, and then the wave catches me.
I pop up, the board steady beneath my feet.
For a moment, it’s just me and the sounds of the surf.
Then, I catch sight of Miles in the corner of my eye, the sunset framing him in a golden haze.
He rides parallel to me with expert grace, carving into the ocean with ease, always leaving me enough space to ride the same wave.
He mirrors me, laughing and pointing at me as the ocean carries us in.
We’re both laughing as we step off our boards and walk toward our towels.
I set the board down, and when I stand up, Miles is holding a large towel open for me. I step into it and turn to face him. “You’re a natural,” Miles murmurs.
“I had a good teacher,” I whisper, staring at his mouth.
“Jenna…” Miles lets out a breath. His eyes dart away from me and back—he looks like he wants to say something but he’s holding back. I knew something was preoccupying him.
“Miles,” I say, urging him on. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” Miles hesitates and then shakes his head as if changing his mind. “I just want you to know…I really like you.”
I grin. “I really like you too, you dummy.” I swat his arm. “You scared me getting all serious like that. I thought you were going to dump me.”
But Miles grabs my hand again and pulls me closer. He leans down and nuzzles his nose with mine. “No,” he says huskily, shaking his head. “I more than like you, Jenna. I’m falling for you.”
My heart races. I’m falling for you is not something you say to a fling.
I know now—this isn’t a fling for Miles anymore.
If I’m really honest with myself, it’s not a fling for me either and it hasn’t been for a while.
I may have been built up like a fortress, but Miles has slowly but surely been breaking down my barriers and weaseling his way into my heart.
And yet, I’m not scared. I’m excited, energized, hopeful…
but not scared. Miles hasn’t given me any reason to be scared.
“Please say something,” he croaks into my ear, my wet hair dripping on his lips.
“I’m falling for you too, Miles,” I breathe.