Chapter Eight
Samantha blinked twice, her eyes adjusting to the morning light shining in through the windows.
She didn’t believe in alarm clocks. The best way to wake up was naturally, guided by the rhythm of the world around her.
Yawning loudly, she stretched her arms above her head, touching the wooden headboard with her fingers.
It was Tuesday. Later this morning, she had an appointment with a prospective client at a coffee shop in downtown Huntington Beach, and thereafter she had a few more blogs to write for a skincare website that used natural honey propolis as its main ingredient.
There was strictly no fire dancing today.
Reaching over to the side table, Samantha grabbed her cell phone and flicked a finger across the screen. Her heart suddenly stopped, and then beat at a ridiculous speed. There was a message from Angel.
Samantha bolted upright. A few stars sat in her periphery, which she blinked away. When she could see properly, she clicked on the message and read: “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for banana bread. I’m sure it was tasty.”
That was it. A simple message that didn’t mean much at all. Unless one decided to dig a little deeper, to delve into the meaning behind the words, and Samantha did just that. Clearly, Angel was sorry she hadn’t taken the opportunity to spend time with her. Clearly, she wanted to go on another date.
The revelation was thrilling.
With the phone clutched to her chest, Samantha fell back onto her pillow. A few red curls spilled onto her face, which she promptly brushed away with a forced exhale.
Samantha had the bad habit of falling too hard and too fast. She was known to fall in love faster than most people even admitted to themselves that they liked someone.
But it would be different this time. This time, she’d keep her heart to herself.
This time, she would zip up her chest and lock it with a key that she would keep buried somewhere in the garden.
Turning onto her side, Samantha bunched the pillow up underneath her head and slid a finger along the screen until she found her Safari app.
Opening it, she hit the search button and typed in Station 4 Huntington Beach.
A website popped up with a link to their Instagram page.
Ignoring the voice in her head that said, “Isn’t this a bit too much, Sam?
A bit too stalkerish.” She clicked on the link and found their page.
There were over a hundred posts. Some were of firefighters in action, others were of beaming men and women in station attire, and some were of community residents thanking the firefighters for the admirable work they were doing.
There were a few of Angel. Samantha couldn’t bite down the smile when she clicked on a post from a few months ago of Angel holding a toddler in her arms. Both had silly smiles on their faces as they looked directly at the camera.
Clicking on the story icon, Samantha watched as a video popped up of six firefighters running along the shores of Dog Beach with a text in the right corner: Drills on the beach.
Station Four firefighters getting ripped. #dogbeach
It was dated a minute ago.
Samantha was up and out of bed in a second. Maybe they were there right now, running up and down the beach getting ripped. Maybe if Samantha got there in time, she could accidentally bump into Angel.
While she rushed off to the bathroom, eager to brush her teeth, and pretty up her morning face, which was streaked with the remnants of a good night’s sleep, Samantha called up her neighbor. “Matty, are you awake?”
A yawn sounded from the speaker and then he grumbled, “I’m awake now. What do you want, Sam?”
“I want to go to the beach. Do you want to come with me?”
Samantha could suddenly hear the squeak of bed springs and the thump of his large feet against the wooden floors of his bedroom. “Meet me in my car in five minutes.”
“We can go in mine,” offered Samantha.
“Your piece of junk doesn’t have roof racks and if we’re going to the beach, I’m taking my surfboard.”
The call ended. Despite the obvious insult, Samantha was grinning. All she had to do was mention the beach and Matty would leave whatever he was doing, including sleep, and join her. No questions asked.
Once she was dressed in a linen shirt and matching shorts—she mostly wore linen for its comfort and earthy feel—she headed over to his place.
“Why the sudden interest in the beach this morning?” asked Matty as he secured his surfboard to the roof of his car.
His board was shorter in length, with narrow tails.
Once, when Samantha had asked him about it, Matty had said, “I’m basically one foot away from being a pro, and this board right here is what the professionals use. ”
For someone who lived so close to the beach, in a place often known as ‘Surf City’ Samantha knew very little about surfing.
“Sometimes all you have to do is smell the fresh morning ocean air.” She shrugged in a rather nonchalant manner, although she was anything but cool, calm, and collected.
Samantha was buzzing with adrenaline and excitement at seeing Angel running down the beach like in Baywatch.
If she could teleport herself there right now, she would.
Matty cocked his head and blanked his face. “Smell the fresh morning ocean air? Is that really your excuse? It doesn’t have something to do with a specific blonde named Angel, does it?”
“Fine,” she sighed. “I was on the station’s Instagram page and might have seen their story.
They’re all running along the beach this morning.
Doing drills. Or at least I think they are.
” There was always the possibility that the story was an old video taken from another day.
Yet Samantha was positive by nature and chose not to think about it.
“So, you’re stalking her now. Very adult of you, Sam. Are you sure you want to stalk a public safety officer? You might just get arrested and end up in jail. Honestly, I don’t think you’d manage in jail. You’re too pretty.”
Samantha pulled a face. Despite the compliment, she was sure there was an insult tucked in there somewhere.
“Angel’s a firefighter, not a cop. Besides, I’m just going to the beach with my dear friend and neighbor.
If we happen to bump into them, then great.
If we don’t… well, that’s fine as well. It’s all completely innocent. ”
Matty chuckled, shaking his head as he walked around the car to the driver’s side. “Come on, stalker. Let’s go to the beach.”
By the time they had parked the car, unloaded the surfboard off the roof, and ambled onto the beach, Samantha’s hope was beginning to fade.
There was no sign of the six strong and good-looking firefighters.
No sign of Angel floating across the sandy beach.
Either she had missed them, or they weren’t on the beach to begin with.
Kicking up sand, Samantha glumly watched the granules fly into the air and blend in with their brothers and sisters a few short feet away.
Why hadn’t she just replied to Angel’s message this morning instead of running after a lead that didn’t even exist?
She could’ve asked her out for a morning coffee.
Or even lunch or dinner. Instead, she had ignored the sane voice in her head and acted without thinking things through.
“Can you see them?” asked Matty with his hand up like a visor, scanning the beach.
Samantha shook her head sadly and wrapped her arms tightly over her chest, even though the morning breeze was pleasantly warm. “It was probably an old story. Maybe it was from yesterday and they only posted it today.”
Matty pressed his lips into a half smile.
He even reached out and cupped her elbow awkwardly, as if he wanted to squeeze it.
“Sorry, Sam. Do you mind if I still go for a surf?” He shrugged his shirt off over his head.
“It doesn’t look too bad this morning. Not as good as I would’ve liked, but it’s good enough. ”
Samantha was suddenly reminded of yesterday, of him standing behind the half-open door with his collarbone showing and the hottie standing behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. She wanted to ask him about Jade, if he was planning on seeing her again or forgetting about her like he did all his other conquests but decided against it.
She was too glum to interfere in his love life.
“Go ahead,” she said instead. “I’ll just sit right over here and read my book.”
He frowned. “You brought a book?”
Samantha stuck her hand into her pocket and retrieved her phone. “I’ve got the Kindle app on my phone and a very good mystery book I need to finish. I’m almost halfway and it’s getting quite tense.”
“Are you sure? I can take you home first if you don’t want to sit around here waiting for me to finish. It doesn’t sound very fair.”
“I’m sure. Go surf and enjoy yourself.”
Samantha watched him jog to the sea, his surfboard tucked under his right arm, his board shorts a peachy pink. Only when Matty’s feet hit the water, did Samantha plop down on the sand. She gazed out across the shore, looking both left and right.
Nothing. No firefighters doing drills. No Angel.
At least a little mystery would take her attention for a few minutes while Matty took on the surf.
In a few short minutes, Samantha was lost in the book.
It was about a woman whose seven-year-old son vanished at the beach a decade ago only for him to reappear at the exact same beach ten years later, miraculously unchanged by the passage of time.
Samantha dug her toes into the cool sand and rested her chin on her knees while her phone lay on the top of her feet.
Time passed.
A dog ran toward her. She rubbed its head, and it slobbered all over her feet before it ran back to its owner. Glancing out to the ocean, Samantha could just make out Matty in the surf. A wave crashed and knocked him off his board.
More time passed. Her book was getting to a crucial point. The police had just discovered a dead body with the same DNA as the lost boy. The ending was sure to be mind-blowing.
When Samantha looked up again, her heart suddenly quickened, and her palms were suddenly clammy.
In the distance, to her right, was a group of six men and women clad in matching navy-blue T-shirts and shorts.
It was a troop of firefighters pounding the beach.
They looked like a wave charging forward. Samantha immediately sought out Angel.
Right in the middle of the pack, chatting while she was running, was the blonde who made Samantha’s heart flutter in her chest. Angel ran effortlessly, like a gazelle. Her legs were strong and lean, her strides confident and powerful and extremely captivating.
She looked to be in her element.
But then she stopped dead and gazed in Samantha’s direction, her brows furrowed, and her face twisted into a grimace.
“Shit,” muttered Samantha under her breath. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” It wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for, the dreamy look of surprise and pure happiness. Instead, Angel’s face expressed the same type of reaction a person would give when they spotted a rat running across the road in the city.
Scrambling to her feet—or at least attempting to do so—Samantha had every intention of running away.
But the sand was soft, and she had dug her feet deep into it a few minutes ago.
Trying desperately to take a step forward, only her torso moved, but her legs remained stuck.
She lurched clumsily forward, her arms outstretched for balance as she went tumbling onto the beach.
Her cell phone landed in a clump of sand beside her.
“Oh, come on, universe. Why do you hate me so much today?” she moaned under her breath as she pushed herself up and dusted sand off her knees and legs.