Chapter 31
For the first time since the accident, I sleep soundly.
Granted, I didn’t sleep all that much. I wake and it’s still dark, but through the sheer curtain I see light beginning to infiltrate the sky.
Harper lays on her side beside me, her face relaxed, breathing deep and even. I reach out, brushing her hair back from her face, which has grown tanner after spending so much time at the beach, even in the Spring.
“Are you awake?”
Harper takes a deep breath. “No.”
Smirking, I scoot down on the bed, placing the smallest of kisses against her stomach, just above the scar that brought Lucas into the world. I trail them up her side.
“Let me keep dreaming.”
I slide back to my pillow.
Harper huffs and finally opens one, looking at the window beyond me. “It’s still dark outside,” she mumbles, turning on her stomach.
“Not for long.” I scoot closer so I’m flush against her, making it easy to leave a kiss on her lips. “It’s about to be the best time of day.”
She yelps when I reach over, giving her bare ass a playful smack. I can’t help myself through. I sweep my hand over the smooth skin to soothe it before dropping a kiss there and climbing out of bed.
Harper pulls the tangled sheet to her waist and pushes up onto her elbows. “What are you talking about?”
“Go grab a swimsuit,” I tell her, heading into the bathroom. “And I’ll show you.”
Soon later, we’ve climbed into my jeep and Harper falls asleep again one minute into the eight-minute drive. But I don’t mind because she’s got her hand on top of mine that rests on her bare thigh.
“Come on, come on.” I tug gently on the bottom of her jean shorts. “We only have a few minutes.”
Harper raises her head, her blonde hair wrapped into a large knot on her head. “It’s too early for practice.” She yawns. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Exactly.” I hop out of my Jeep and race onto the boardwalk, taking the path that winds around the side of the shop.
When I hear her shuffling footsteps, my keys are in the lock. I don’t bother turning on a light. I head into my office, grabbing our dry wetsuits that hang on the back of the door. I toss Harper hers. “Strip. Put this on.”
She raises an eyebrow. “After last night I didn’t expect you to ever tell me strip and then follow it up by telling me to put on something else.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
I pull off my clothes, shimmying into the thick, lycra fabric. By the time I get it up my body, Harper has barely managed to pull her wetsuit halfway up her legs. I come up behind her, grabbing the bunched fabric and lift her off the ground. She yelps and giggles, but her body falls in.
“Come on.”
I take a longboard we hardly ever use from behind the desk .
“What about the tandem board?” Harper asks when I walk past.
“I didn’t say we were practicing.”
When we make it outside, the sun has just begun to rise behind us, but the water is still dark.
Harper tugs on my hand. “Riley…” she whispers nervously.
“Do you trust me?” I ask. My eyes shift to the scene behind her, growing lighter by the minute.
Not answering, Harper takes a deep breath and steps forward and we make our way to the shore. She jumps when the tide sweeps over her feet.
“It’s cold. Don’t get in yet.” I don’t want her getting any colder than she has to be. I let go of her hand and continue forward, waiting for a break so I can get the board out. Holding it steady, I look back to Harper and wave. “Run, just get on.”
Harper hops through the crashing surf. “It’s not cold,” she tells me. “It’s freezing .”
This is something you just get used to when your favorite place is the ocean. Because the perfect wave never waits, especially for the perfect temperature.
I hold the board steady so she can climb on it. “Scoot forward.”
I wait until she’s closer to the front of the board before I begin to push it deeper.
Harper whips her head around. “You’re not leaving me out here alone, are you?”
A wave pushes the board up and I let it do the same with me, leveraging myself behind her. “Never.”
“I don’t get it,” Harper says. Even though it’s cold, she follows my lead and begins to paddle. “Why didn’t we take the other board?”
“Because we aren’t here for the tricks. We’re here for the magic.” I stretch my neck, my lips grazing her cheek. “And I like the tighter fit.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Harper asks after helping me turn the board to face the shore. The sun has finally risen, casting rays on the beach, but the water we float in is still dark.
I peak over my shoulder, waiting for a moment.
“Just trust me,” I say, bringing my head back. I lift my arm from the water and give her hand a squeeze before we begin to paddle. I can feel how tense she is. “All you have to do is stand up.”
The pull of the wave back tells me it’s almost time.
“Now,” I say. “Pop up.”
We have to be somewhat in sync to not topple over, but after weeks of practicing on the tandem board, standing together at the right time is the easiest thing in the world.
Harper is used to riding waves. But what she hasn’t done is ride in one.
I bring my left arm down, pressing it against her stomach so she leans closer into me, and raise my voice to make sure she hears me. “You’re going to want to crouch down a little.”
“What?” Harper asks, and it’s that moment I bear down, using my hips. Instead of heading toward the shore, we’re now parallel to it.
And there it is, the hollow-faced doorway that opens before the swell breaks. The barrel is the heart of the wave, the most beautiful part that makes you feel—for just a few seconds—like you can breathe underwater.
Harper’s hand finds mine on her stomach as we make it through the opening.
“I’ve got you.” I crouch a little more, pushing Harper to do the same.
She doesn’t object, doesn’t fight me. Our bodies grow closer the lower to the board we go. Even though I’ve now been inside her, I don’t think we’ll ever be as close as we are in this moment as her heart beats through her back and into my chest. We’re together, navigating the break between the dawn of a new day and yesterday’s dark waters.
But with each second, more sun hits the ocean, and the water I reach out to and skim with my fingertips grows lighter, but never as light as when Harper does the same, her voice heightened with squeals of delight.
I drop my head to her shoulder, wanting to save the rest of the short ride, to hold onto the amazing moment that is walking through the break and finally feeling how good it feels when light shines through the crack.
If Harper wasn’t freezing, I’d stay out in the ocean with her forever.
“Stay here.”
I drop the board onto the sand and run back to The Shack in search of towels. When I return, Harper sits on the board, her eyes cast out on the water so intently she doesn’t look away even when I drape a towel around her shoulders.
I sit behind her on the board, pulling a towel around myself and caging her in my legs.
“Are you awake now?”
Harper turns, smiling. “I never want to sleep again.”
I laugh, pulling her closer to me, sighing at the indescribable fullness that hits me when she leans back into my chest.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” she teases. “ That’s surfing. I’ve been cheated.”
“You’ll get there.” I push her tangled hair to the side before I ditch the towel, the warmth from the sun enough. I lean back and she slides with me, tilting her head up for a kiss. It’s light, unhurried, but Harper’s mouth simply lingers for a minute against mine and now I realize there’s something better than surfing entirely.
It’s the feel of her smiling against me as we share the same breath, knowing I’m the reason for her happiness. That’s a drug stronger than the ocean .
Harper finally pulls back. “Do we have to practice?”
I look out at the water. “It’s kind of choppy. Maybe we take today off.”
“Is that your way of telling me you’re tired?”
I kick sand up onto her feet. “Whose fault is that?”
Like Harper, I never really want to sleep again. I don’t want to miss out on one second of this life that feels like one big, walking daydream.
But our reality has a few things that might pull our heads from the clouds soon.
“Actually, I have to tell you something. We can’t compete.”
Harper looks up at me. “Did they change the rule about amateurs?”
“No. We’ll be in court next Friday.”
Harper gasps.
“We can still do something with Lucas. I’m sorry. I requested an emergency hearing and—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Harper professes, giving me a small smile. “The court date is most important.”
It’s most important because Tides is the most important thing for Lucas. If he has his dog back, everything might be easier, including getting him in the water. But there’s more he’ll have to deal with.
“Maybe we should wait a bit before we tell Lucas. About us.”
As much as I want no barriers, no moments of grey area between the two of us, there’s a kid involved and kids can be…messy.
Harper pushes off me and turns between my legs, and I can’t really read the look on her face when she sits back on her knees.
“I want you to know something,” I begin. “Kids can be complicated. But I happen to love your son. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t love him. I want to do this right.”
Harper lets out a breath I didn’t realize she was holding. And there it is, clear on her face—relief .
“Do you know what we have?” she asks, not giving me long to answer. “Time.”
I know what Harper means—we don’t have to rush.
But my stomach falls, because the two of us know how precious time really is better than anyone else.
So me? I’m going to make the fucking most of the time I have with the people I love, just carefully and extra gently.
“We should go on a date,” I spit out.
Harper juts her head back. “A date ?”
“Yes, a date . You know, one where you wear a nice dress and I…” I dread the idea of putting on a suit again . “And I also look nice.”
Her face softens. “You don’t have to take me on a date, Riley. I mean…” The apples of her cheeks grow a soft pink. “We’re kind of past that.”
I shake my head. “It’s cute you have an appreciation for the correct order of things, but if you don’t step out of line every now and then, you’re going to miss all the fun. So yeah, I’m going to take you out on a date even though we already know each other.” Reaching out, I press my hand to her waist, sliding it up to the underside of her breast through her wetsuit.
“I’m going to take you out on a date even though I already know the sounds you make when my mouth lands right in this spot,” I whisper, pressing the pad of my thumb through her nipple straining beneath the fabric.
I smile when Harper lets out a mini moan and gasp sung together. “Yes. It’s something like that.”
Harper sighs.
I pull my hand away and tilt Harper’s chin up, cupping her cheek. “I’m going to take you out on a date because that’s what you deserve.”
“Fine,” Harper acquiesces.
“Fine?”
“I’ll go out with you. ”
“Yeah, I get that. But fine ? Would it kill you to be a little more enthusiastic? I’m going to take you to Marcellos.”
“Marcellos is very fancy.” She tips her head to the side and her hair follows. “I’ll let you wine and dine me, Riley. But I already have you at home. What could be better than that?”
I almost agree. But then Harper kisses me.
And, yeah. Instantly better.
“Tonight,” I mumble against her lips.
Harper backs away, wrinkling her nose.
I groan. “Now what?”
“It will have to be tomorrow. I’m teaching candlelit yoga tonight. I only do it once a month.”
“Isn’t yoga supposed to be relaxing on its own? Why do you need candles?”
Harper giggles. “It’s just extra relaxing.”
I press my face into her neck. “Is it romantic?”
“Sure. If it was for two and not twenty.”
I press a kiss to the bottom of her chin. “Now that I think about it, I might’ve daydreamed about yoga with you once or twice.”
Harper hums. “You can drop in anytime.”
Raising my head, I smile against her cheek. “I plan to.”