Page 36 of Hula Girl

“Goodbye, Bryce.” I disconnect the call and slowly turn back to face Ford, though I don’t meet his eyes. I can feel him watching me, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Real-world stuff?” he finally asks.

“Yeah.”

“Work or personal?” He pauses. “Or both?”

I take a sip of my orange juice, taking my time. “Used to be personal. Now it’s just work,” I admit.

He nods. “The guy who has no idea what you want?”

“That’d be him.” I try to make my voice light, dismissive.

“His loss, Ava. Truly.”

I meet his eyes and see such warmth and kindness there. He’s really unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

And there I go again, feeling way too manyfeelingswith this guy. I blink away the emotion and stare down at my plate, focusing on the scoop of fresh mango I had taken from the buffet. I spear one piece with my fork and hold it up, watching a tiny trickle of juice run free.

“Es un mango,” I say softly, amusing myself with the recollection of what I had thought when I first saw him.

“Si, y eres tan dulce y deliciosa,” he replies, telling me I am just as sweet and delicious as a mango.

My mouth falls open in shock. “You speak Spanish?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got a very rudimentary vocabulary.”

Now I’m compelled to tell him the same thing he said that first night were together on the beach, “Where did you come from?”

Squinting at me ever so slightly, he smiles and shakes his head a little. “All I know is I’m right where I want to be.”

My mouth drops open and then I laugh out of sheer delight. He has a phenomenal way of making me feel like I am something special.

And then he leans forward and takes the piece of mango into his mouth from the fork I’m still holding up. As he slowly savors it, he watches me with unmasked desire and I feel the same for him all over again. That, along with the realization once more that there isn’t enough time left.

13

Ford

“Ford!”

Well, she finally did it. She screamed my name.

But not because I’m giving her a mind-blowing orgasm. No, she’s screaming my name because she’s overcome by the utter freedom and joy that comes with riding her first wave. I’m behind her on the longboard, helping balance the board while she soaks it all in. She’s wide-eyed, a huge smile plastered on her face. The wave dies out and she turns to me, nearly toppling us both off into the water.

I grab her waist and manage to keep us up.

“Again, again, again!” she says with the unbridled excitement of a child.

Laughing, I kiss her quickly before pulling her down so I can paddle us out into position again.

There’s nothing like that first wave. I had told Ava that it would be unreal to her. But she didn’t really know what to expect. Seeing her experience that sensation of, for a very brief time, being one with the water was incredible. Sharing the gift of surfing is the best thing you can do. It opens up a connection that is hard to describe. Only once you’ve been in the water this way can you understand what it is. There is no other world when you’re surfing. There are no worries about your job, bills, or other life demands. There is only the water. And when you’re in it, it’s all you need. It fulfills everything you feel you could ever want. Coming out of it is the hardest thing to do.

I can’t believe how many years I sacrificed away from this kind of peace. It’s why I now get up early, even with a hangover, to get in some waves every chance I can. I’ll never stop wanting to make up for that lost time.

And now I’ve got Ava feeling a sliver of this sensation, too. It’s amazing to share this with her, to know that she gets it.

We manage to catch a dozen more small waves, and with each one, Ava is just as thrilled by the ride. Her energy is contagious, making me smile just as broadly as she does.

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