Chapter 6 #2
“I’m saying I already have. Statistically. I’ve caught at least three waves today, and you’re both in the middle of what looks like a very sexy planning meeting.”
The auburn-haired one laughs outright this time, head dipping.
The blond one gives him a look. “Very sexy?”
“You heard her.”
“I regret everything about this conversation,” I say.
“No, you don’t,” the auburn-haired one adds. The annoying thing is that he knows exactly how incredibly seductive he sounds.
A swell rolls beneath us, lifting all three boards. We turn automatically, watching the horizon. Another set is building, clean and fast.
The blond one glances over at me. “You want to prove it?”
“That depends. Are you about to make this weirdly binding?”
“Loser buys lunch,” the auburn-haired one declares.
I consider it. “Individually or collectively? I need clarity.”
“Confident,” the blond one says.
“She thinks she’s already won,” the auburn-haired one states.
“There’s a difference,” I say.
“Is there?” Mr. Blond says, slightly standoffish.
“Yes. Confidence is internal. Winning is what happens in about thirty seconds when you two realize I wasn’t flirting—I was issuing a challenge.”
His mouth curves properly then. “Cute.”
“Oh, good,” I shoot back. “You’re condescending. I was worried you might be nice.”
The auburn-haired one laughs again, shaking his head. And just like that, the air changes.
Whatever instinct told them to be wary of the stranger paddling up has been replaced by something a lot more dangerous for me personally.
The auburn-haired guy glances toward the incoming set. “Middle wave,” he says. “First one in doesn’t get counted. Too easy.”
“Afraid I’ll smoke you on the first go?” I ask.
“No,” he says, deadpan. “I just don’t want your seal entrance to become your whole legacy.”
I look at him, then grin, trying not to stare at them too long, which is difficult considering how stunning they are. Makes me wonder if they’re models for some surfer brands.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy beating you,” I blurt out.
The blond one starts turning his board toward the swell. “We’ll see.”
And for the first time since I spotted those men on the beach, the panic in my chest loosens its grip just enough for something else to get in.
Adrenaline.
Curiosity.
And the extremely inconvenient realization that if I survive this morning, I might be thinking about these two for all the wrong reasons. I glance back toward the shore, still trying to gauge whether those two men are watching me or just happen to be standing in a deeply threatening way.
Then something brushes my foot in the water.
I jolt so hard I nearly tip sideways.
A dark shape swishes under my board.
“Oh my God—” The words come out as more of a strangled squeak than anything useful. I yank both legs up so fast I almost knee myself in the chin, ending up crouched on the board.
The shape circles once more under the water.
“Nope. Absolutely not. I am not spiritually prepared for this.”
Laughter breaks across the water in front of me. Not one laugh. But two different ones.
The blond hunk is openly grinning now, shoulders shaking, that dry amusement finally let off the leash.
The second guy laughs too, but his comes easier, warmer, as if he’s trying and failing not to enjoy this.
Then, a few feet away, a sleek head pops out of the water. Whiskers, huge dark eyes, and a wet little face. It’s a seal. It blinks at me, then ducks under again.
I stare, my heartbeat still not calming down.
The blond man says, “That’s Miso the seal.”
The auburn-haired one is still smiling. “He’s always out here early, usually harassing people with less drama.”
I put a hand over my chest, currently kneeling on the board. “I genuinely thought I was about to become someone’s breakfast.”
The auburn-haired guy paddles a little closer, eyes flicking over me in a quick, assessing way. “You okay?”
There’s nothing sharp in it now, just checking, which is annoyingly decent of him.
“Yes,” I reply, with all the dignity available to a woman who just squeaked at a seal. “But I’d like the record to show that I was ambushed.”
The blond man snorts. “By Miso.”
“He came at me from below, trying to scare me on purpose.”
The auburn-haired one laughs again, softer this time. “He likes new people.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Even the wildlife here has boundary issues.”
Miso surfaces again beside my board, gives it another little nudge, and then vanishes.
I lift my attention from the water to the two men, then past them toward the beach to where those other guys are still waiting, small in the distance but enough to make my stomach knot all over again.
The blond guy catches the direction of my glance. His expression changes, subtle but real. The humor stays, but something cooler settles underneath it. “Miso picked a weird morning,” he says lightly, but his eyes stay on me for half a beat too long.
I force a smile and lower one leg back into the water. “Well, tell him I’m honored, but I’d prefer fewer underwater surprise attacks before coffee.”
He shifts on his board, gray eyes glinting. “You sure you still want that challenge, Seal Bait?”
I stare at him. “Did you just rename me?”
He gives me a look that’s much too calm for a man being that irritating. “Felt right.”
The auburn-haired man says, “Could be worse. He could’ve gone with Breakfast.”
I point at him. “You. Slightly nicer, but still not nice.”
His mouth curves. “That’s fair.”
The blond’s grin turns lazy, almost wicked. “So. You racing us or not?”
I settle back onto my board, pride kicking in where panic just was. “Please. If anything, this has only made me more determined.”
“Good,” he says.
The auburn-haired surfer glances toward the incoming swell, then back at me. “Try not to scream if a fish looks at you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Try not to cry when I beat you.”
That gets a real laugh out of both of them, and this time when they look at me, there’s no reserve left in it.
And then there’s a splash behind me, and I flinch hard.
“Adelaide?” a male’s voice calls out.
I spin on the board so fast I nearly go sideways, and there he is. Water still running off him from a wave, staring at me as if I’m a hallucination.
Ace.
The jaw, green-gold eyes, wet hair pushed back. Chest entirely available for viewing due to the surfing situation. I remember it so well from the plane bathroom, all of this against my will because my brain is a complete and utter traitor.
“Ace.” I stare at him. “Y-you surf.” I can’t think straight. For a second, everything in me goes completely still, then all at once, it’s too much. Shock. Relief. Want. A sharp, stupid burst of excitement that I have no business feeling after the way I left things.
He’s just as I remember him, still devastatingly handsome, but now he’s all wet skin, rippling muscles, and that face I’ve been trying not to think about since the plane. Yet, here I am smiling at seeing him because I’m a fool.
Worse, somehow, his friends are just as incredibly sexy. And of course they’re all Alphas… I can tell without smelling their scents.
Ace is floating on his board, sitting there, staring at me as if he can’t decide whether to laugh, drag me closer, or call me out.
“You left me,” he states, sounding more vulnerable than he probably intended, and his buddies are staring at him.
I push wet hair off my face. “You’re weirdly hard to find online, by the way. I really tried.” I’m avoiding the direct question because I have my reason for bailing on him, which I don’t want to blurt out.
His brows lift, then that grin appears. “You searched for me?”
“I was curious. Don’t make it unbearable.”
Behind me, the blond guy says, “Hang on. You’re Plane Girl?”
Ace’s gaze stays on mine. “The one who vanished.”
Heat climbs my neck. “I had places to be.”
He gives me a look. “You had baggage claim.”
“Which is, last time I checked, a place.”
The auburn-haired guy huffs a laugh.
I glance toward the shore again, stomach tightening when I spot the two men still there. I straighten on the board. “Are we doing this challenge or not?”
The auburn-haired one glances between us. “You challenged us before boyfriend here paddled back in.”
Ace’s eyes narrow slightly. “Excuse me, North?”
“Figure of speech,” the bigger one, called North, says, completely unhelpful.
Ace glances back at me a little too sharply. “You picking up random Alphas on beaches now?”
Something hot twists through me. “You say that like I’m the one with a pattern.”
His mouth almost curves.
North watches us both, then says quietly, “This feels loaded, and as if Luca and I shouldn’t be here.”
“You should totally be a witness, in case she ditches me again,” Ace sneers with a grin.
“Eat glass,” I tell him.
The blond guy, Luca, grins. “Now I like her.”
There’s shock behind those green-gold eyes, and something tighter underneath. Ace wants answers, but he’s not getting them here.
My chest tightens, all that unfinished tension pushing to the surface. I force a shrug. “Can we not do the interrogation thing? I came out here to surf, insult strangers, and win a free lunch.”
North laughs.
Luca, on the other hand, studies me for another second, then spots the swell building behind us. “We can ask questions later.”
Ace still hasn’t moved his attention from me. “How long before you disappear again?”
My pulse kicks hard. I lift my chin. “Not before an early lunch.”
That finally gets a real smile out of him. “Good,” he says. “I’m not letting you out of my sight this time.”
And damn him for making his comment sound like a promise.
We turn toward the horizon as one. A clean set is rolling in, glassy and even, the early light catching on the faces of the waves. For a second, everything else falls away. The men on the beach. The knot in my chest. Ace.