Chapter Ten
—JAMIE
The water is cool against my skin, the rhythm of the waves pulsing beneath me as I paddle farther out.
I forgot how much I loved surfing. It’s been a while since I’ve felt the rush of a good wave, the wind stinging my face, the endless blue.
Above me, pelicans glide effortlessly, dipping and rising with the breeze.
I meant what I said. I’m glad I got to see Noa again. Be near her again. But it’s all still too raw, so close to the surface that it stings. That it hurts us both, even if underneath all that pain is a heart beating only for each other. And that’s why I know I need to stay away. Again.
There is a howl of joy, and I glance around until I find Matteo farther down the beach, carving through the water with ease.
He’s really good—annoyingly good. I have a flash of jealousy when I wonder if Noa taught him how to surf too.
But it’s more likely he had some ex-pro teach him at a thousand dollars per hour because he’s out here like he owns this entire stretch of ocean.
His movements are sharp and controlled, the waves bending to his will.
And still, I have no idea why he’s doing this.
There are better bits of coastline for surfing, and I know he’s got high-end boards at home, even if the one I grabbed him is pretty decent for a rental.
I just keep coming back to why he’s here, and I’m just not sure.
Was it to see Noa? Why, when she’s clearly not interested?
I keep trying to understand. My eyes flicker to Noa, standing outside the Surf Shack with this kind of laid-back posture that proves she’s been on this beach her whole life. That she belongs here.
With the next wave, I stand up, riding it until it crests and landing softly between two rolls. When I resurface, the board pops up next to me, connected to my ankle. I take a beat to catch my breath. The water is definitely a little bit rough today, the undercurrent pulling me downwind.
Watching the beach, I see Jordan and Hailey lying on the sand, probably looking at their phones. They’re not even trying to enjoy the day. Such a waste.
I pull myself up on my board again before something catches my eye. I see Matteo well past the waves, just sitting on his board and messing with his ankle strap. Then he takes it off and tosses the cord behind him.
“What the hell is he doing?” I murmur. Losing the board this far out would be a disaster—the water is too deep, the current too strong. Besides, it’s not even his board to lose.
I start to paddle toward him, although the current is fighting against me, pushing me away. “Matteo!” I call, my voice sharp as it cuts through the surf. “Watch your board!”
Matteo looks over at me, his mouth curling into a lazy smile. He holds up a finger to his lips, making the universal “keep it a secret” motion, like we’re in on some joke together.
Without a word, he hops into the water. Then he uses both hands to send the board out toward the open ocean.
My stomach twists. He can’t do that—I can’t just let him get away with that.
I glance down at my board, realizing it would be too hard for me to bring both in by myself. Matteo needs to grab one of them. Before he can get too far, I paddle again and start kicking my legs, doing my best to get over the waves. Matteo starts swimming back toward shore.
“Stop!” I shout, my voice rough with frustration. “Matteo, stop!”
He doesn’t even look back at me. While he’s casually swimming in, his board is sliding quietly away on the current. My heart starts to race, knowing that it might already be too late.
I turn for the beach, ready to drag that asshole back out to find the board. Matteo is ahead of me, but I paddle harder, hoping to catch him. Water lashes my face as I seesaw over the waves, crashing down on the other side.
Up ahead, Matteo stands up and starts walking out of the ocean, rubbing his palm over his shaved head. When it’s clear he doesn’t have his board, I see Noa run toward him, her feet kicking up sand as she sprints, panic in her expression.
I’m nearly to the shore, out of breath. Noa is frantic as she reaches the group.
“Matteo, where’s the board?” she demands. “Where the hell is my board?”
Her breaths are coming in short bursts, and I can see her eyes flashing between the ocean and Matteo, like she’s waiting for an explanation that’s not coming. He shrugs innocently.
“What did you do?” she demands, her voice cracking. “That’s my most expensive board!” Noa’s hands are shaking as she gestures wildly at him.
Just then, I get to a place where I can stand in the water and start making my way in, pushing my board ahead of me while gasping in breaths.
“Ankle strap must have been faulty,” Matteo says dismissively, glancing back toward the ocean. “You really should be using better equipment if the board was so precious.”
Noa stares at him for a moment, her expression shifting from disbelief to frustration, but then it breaks. She pulls off her T-shirt in a swift motion, revealing her bathing suit underneath, and before anyone can stop her, she’s running into the water.
She runs right past me, desperate. She’s going after that board like it’s the only thing that matters.
I watch her, heart pounding, before I turn back to Matteo.
“That’s messed up,” I tell him sharply. I toss my board aside in the sand and walk straight up to him. “You need to go help her find it.”
Matteo snorts a laugh, and when I move even closer, nearly touching him, his expression hardens. “And you need to mind your own fucking business,” he says, his voice low. “Trust me—you’re not her type, bro.”
He smirks, and I can feel the anger racing over my skin, tightening in my gut. Whatever his deal with Noa was, it’s long over now. That much is clear. Is that what this was all about? Some kind of revenge? Some bullshit punishment? My hands ball into fists at my sides.
“Go fucking help her,” I tell him seriously, my eyes blazing.
“You need to remember your place here,” he says, squaring up. “Who my father is.” He looks me over. “Why are you so worried about some Chaser girl anyway? None of them are worth this much trouble.”
Behind him, Jordan shifts uncomfortably in the sand, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t call him out for being an asshole. But I’m not scared of him or his father.
“Go help her,” I demand again, and push his shoulder. I’m not going to let him get away with this. I’m not going to let him hurt Noa.
Matteo steps up to me, bumping my chest. “It’s time for you to run along, James,” he says, drawing out my name. He lowers his voice, sinking low just for me. “Or maybe your daddy will send you away again.”
He smiles, and I’m caught up when I realize that he knows what happened. That maybe they all do.
Whether it’s embarrassment, chivalry, jealousy—or a combination of all three—something inside me snaps. I reach out with both hands to push Matteo hard and sharp, making him stumble backward.
“Jamie, stop!” Jordan shouts, and I see her jump up, her face a mix of surprise and concern. Of course, I shouldn’t have looked away.
In a single, fluid movement, Matteo swings and punches me square in the eye, the force exploding behind my skull as I’m knocked to the sand. A cheap shot. I choke out a gasp, my hand going instinctively to my face. At first, I’m more in shock than I am in pain.
“Now stay down,” Matteo sneers, pointing at me.
Jordan rushes to crouch down next to me in the sand, her eyes flashing at Matteo. “What are you doing?” she demands, as if she can’t believe that he’d hit me.
I can’t either. I’m still processing what happened, my anger momentarily faded into disbelief.
It’s been a while since I’ve been in a fight, not since my summers on this beach.
I’m not sure how I got to this point again, the moments blending together.
It was about my dad. About a surfboard. About Noa. It was about my fucking pride.
And it was about Matteo being an asshole.
“His father is going to kill you,” Jordan tells him. I’m not sure if she’s sticking up for me or just pointing out that my father is powerful. Well, from my point of view, I think Matteo should know that I’m the one who’s going to kill him.
Before I can say as much, Matteo grabs his shirt off the sand and starts toward the path back up to the resort. Hailey, silent until now, tells Jordan they need to go. She casts a worried glance in my direction. Then, without waiting for her, Hailey dashes off to chase after Matteo.
Jordan’s face is tight, seeming to debate what to do. Her short hair blows around her chin in the breeze. She puts her hand on my arm supportively, but then she uses it to push herself up. She straightens, and without a word to me, she walks stiffly toward the resort and her friends.
That hurts. I mean, I’m the one who got punched in the face, but she runs after him?
“Whatever,” I murmur, reaching to touch under my eye and wincing at the pain. There must be a cut there too. And now I’ll have to explain it to my parents.
At that thought, dread starts to stretch over me.
I wonder what exactly Matteo knows about my father sending me to boarding school.
I’m a bit raw at the thought, the idea of everyone here knowing my personal business.
Then again, if it was gossip, Jordan would have said something to me.
Somehow, she would have let me know that people were talking about it.
At least, I think she would have. I’m not so sure now.
Slowly, I get to my feet, my head a little rattled. Just then, I remember that Noa is out in the water. Concerned, I scan the water for her until I see her in the distance, swimming desperately—her arms fighting the waves as she chases after her board. Even though it’s likely gone by now.
Of course, I’m not going to leave her out here. I’m not going to leave her.
And with that, I jog back into the water.