Chapter Twenty-Five
August slipped away, leaving only the ache of how quickly beautiful things moved on.
Time blurred and the three of them fell into a rhythm.
Kelsey spent her days surfing and hanging at the shop.
Besides Brie’s crew, she’d branched out and formed connections with some younger girls, so it was a nice mix.
Everett was focused on the upcoming opening and spent most days making sure all departments were functioning and disasters were solidly contained.
They worked around his schedule, but Rowan was surprised at his commitment to her and Kelsey.
And surfing lessons.
She’d expected one or two lessons max. Figured Everett would slowly fade back to his usual workaholic routine as pressure grew and the days raced by.
Instead, he showed up regularly to learn with Tino or Rowan, even joining Kelsey here and there so he could be teased and encouraged.
When there was a beach get-together, Everett showed up, beginning to relax around Cousin Howie and the aunties.
He’d finally met her other surf friends, and allowed Kelsey to join a sleepover with Brie and the other girls, chaperoned by Lea.
Kelsey and Everett cooked for her a few nights, and she brought Bagel over to join them.
The rabbit had, unfortunately, eaten some of the wall and built a new nest, but Everett had only laughed and said Rowan had to build him a better castle.
Kelsey had figured out they spent the evenings together and even laughingly invited Rowan to actually show up for breakfast instead of sneaking out at sunrise.
When Everett stumbled over his words to explain, she’d only rolled her eyes and groaned.
“Ugh, Dad, do you have any idea what I’ve seen on the internet? ”
Which led to Everett asking a million alarmed questions about her app access.
Every night he showed up at Rowan’s door, where they’d fall into each other with a greed that was only getting worse. After a breathless orgasm, they lay together in the quiet. Everett took her hand, stroking over the old calluses and scars from years of surfing.
“Does your knee still hurt?”
She stretched out her calf and flexed under the sheet. “Sometimes. It’s like a deep ache I’m used to now.”
He nodded, focused on her hand. “What about getting back to surfing for yourself? You’re teaching regularly again. Lea mentioned she’s just waiting on your go.”
Rowan gave a long sigh. She looked at the custom board with her father’s memory carved into the grain and began to want again.
But every time she marched to the sand, something sent her back.
She didn’t know when the noise in her head and the fear would quiet for good.
“I want to. You know all that teaching I give to you and Kelsey about letting your body lead and not getting in your head?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m a great teacher but a lousy student.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It must’ve been terrifying. The accident.”
“I keep going back to that one split-second decision where I decided to take the wave, and as soon as I did, I knew it was a bad idea. Everything went by in slow motion. I cracked my knee and my board and felt like I was going to drown.” Her voice lowered.
“I was so sure my dad would guide me to the win. When it all fell apart, it was easier to just shut down and believe I would be alone for the rest of my life.”
“What do you think now?”
Rowan leaned her cheek against his beating heart. “I think it’s time to try again. Lea and Tino and everyone keep reminding me to get back in the water for my father. But I realized something this week, watching you and Kelsey surf.”
“What?”
“I have to do it for myself,” she whispered.
He drew her close and folded her tight into his embrace, where nothing bad could reach her. “You will.”
They lay in the hum of the fan. Somewhere around almost-sleep, he shifted, tightened his arm around her, and whispered, “I was wrong about you.”
“How?”
“You’re not dangerous.” He paused. “You’re the safest thing I’ve felt in a long time.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her hand found the spot over her heart where ink lived under skin, and for the first time in too long, she didn’t have to press to feel it.
The beach at dawn belonged to the serious ones.
The air was cool enough to raise goose bumps the sky painted that soft mauve-gray that only lasted a few minutes before the sun pushed through. A handful of locals were already out—silent figures waxing boards, stretching, or watching the sets roll in with the quiet reverence of church.
Lea was easy to spot. She stood at the shoreline, board tucked under one arm, grinning like a kid skipping class. “You actually came,” she said when Rowan reached her. “Thought I’d have to drag you by your ankle.”
Rowan adjusted the strap of her board bag, trying to keep her voice light. “Still time for that.”
Lea’s eyes softened. “You ready, girl?”
“No,” Rowan admitted. “But I’m here.”
“That’s enough.” Lea nodded toward the water. “Publics is clean this morning. Lefts’ peeling long. Like the island knows you’re back.”
Rowan’s laugh came shaky. “Don’t start with the signs and omens.”
“Not an omen,” Lea said. “Just respect. Ocean’s saying hi.”
They waxed in silence. The rhythmic scrape grounded her, the scent of coconut sharp against the salt. Her board gleamed in the rising light—sea-glass green fading to honey gold, her father’s koa stringer running down the center like a heartbeat under glass.
Lea caught her looking. “He’s here, you know.”
Rowan blinked fast. “I know.” A smile curled her lips when she thought of the night with Everett. “But this one’s for me.”
Lea lifted her hand and they high-fived. “There she is. Now, let’s go.”
They paddled out slow, arms slicing through warm silk. By the time they reached the lineup, Rowan’s chest burned and her shoulders trembled from effort. But it felt good. God, she’d missed this.
Until the first wave came.
The set lifted, bigger than she’d realized, and her pulse spiked. She froze halfway to turn, every muscle locked. Her mind flooded with that memory—the crack of her knee, the way water filled her ears, the helpless spin as the dark tried to swallow her whole.
Panic rose fast and mean. Her breath came short, shallow.
Lea paddled close, voice calm and low. “Hey. Breathe. You’re not out here to win. You’re out here to remember.”
Rowan stared at the horizon, at the clean blue rise building again. “I can’t—”
“You can,” Lea said firmly. “One wave. Doesn’t matter how long. Just enough to feel her again.”
Rowan’s hands clenched the rails. She wanted to run, to bolt back to the safety of the sand.
But she thought of her father’s laugh, of the board he’d shaped for her with calloused hands, of the way he’d yell Paddle, baby, the ocean’s waiting!
She remembered the joy before it became work and gave winning more importance than freedom.
She turned, paddled hard, and felt the lift catch her. The board tilted, water hissing beneath her. Her pulse hammered. She hesitated. Then pushed up.
The fear dissolved into salt and light. The wave hummed beneath her, smooth and strong, and her body leaned into the curve before her mind caught up. The board answered, carving down the line, steady and alive.
For a heartbeat, she was flying.
Her laugh came out in a joyous bubble of sound.
Lea’s shout carried behind her: “That’s my girl!”
Rowan rode it until the wave melted into whitewash, then dropped to her knees, gasping, grinning like an idiot. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and realized they were wet long before the water hit her.
Lea paddled up, eyes bright. “You did it.”
Rowan shook her head, still laughing. “I didn’t die.”
“Better than that,” Lea said. “You lived.”
They floated for a long while, the horizon opening wide around them. Rowan traced the koa wood down her board. “I thought I lost this part of me.”
Lea nudged her board close. “You don’t lose who you are, babe.
You just forget for a bit. Then you paddle back.
” Rowan swallowed hard, salt and sunlight mixing in her throat.
“Next comp’s in the fall.” Her voice was super casual.
“You don’t have to enter. But I want you there.
Even if it’s just on the beach with the girls. ”
Rowan’s smile wobbled. “You never quit, do you.”
“Wouldn’t be any fun if I did.”
They shared a grin. And when they caught the next set together, Rowan didn’t think—she just moved. And for the first time in years, it didn’t hurt.
It felt like coming home.