Page 36 of Spring Tide

By the time my head hits the pillow, my phone lights up with an Instagram notification. It’s a follower request from @nategundy. I gleefully hit Accept and follow him right back.

Yeah, I’d say tonight was a definite success.

12

LUCA

Sunday morningsat the pier are usually peaceful, especially in this late-summer heat. They’re quiet, little slices of life, interrupted only by the calm sounds of the ocean and the pattering of footsteps ticking along the sand.

There are no families splashing in the water, no college students playing beach volleyball, and the sunrise surfers have already cleared out. There’s still a lifeguard on post, though, on the off chance that some straggler might take a dip.

It’s my favorite day to work.

There’s a distinct lack of pointless interruptions and irritating noises. It’s just me and this big empty pier, sorting fishing gear and minding my own business. At this pace, I could finish cleaning and prepping an entire stock of loaner rods in under an hour.

But as I tack a new photo onto the catch board, I’m distracted by the sound of my own name. Someone’s eagerly calling for me in the distance, their voice growing louder with the sound of their impending footsteps.

“Luca!” Harper’s chipper voice knocks me out of my trance. She’s bouncing on her heels as she approaches, a wide-lipped grin pulling at her features.

“Hi, Harper,” I murmur, soaking in her appearance. Her golden-brown hair hangs in wet, beachy strands that drip across the swell of her chest. Her damp suit is skintight and cherry red, clinging to her body and tucked beneath a set of tiny drawstring shorts. “You’re wet.”

“I went for a swim before my shift.” She takes a few deep breaths, gesturing toward the open ocean. “It’s so nice out there this morning.”

“Seems like it’d be cold.”

“It was surprisingly warm.” Her flushed cheeks settle into a softer form of her signature smile. “How was your knee after the game? I was worried about you last night, especially because I couldn’t watch in real time.”

“That’s right. You were out last night.” I clear my throat, tucking a few more photographs onto the board. “Your big date withNate Gunderson.”

“It wasn’t really a date,” she clarifies, bouncing up to my side. “And can you not say his name so loudly, please?”

“You afraid that old couple’s gonna hear me?” I tease, nodding about a hundred yards down the beach. “Or are you concerned about the seagulls?”

She snorts, eyes flashing with a hint of genuine surprise. “You reallyareobsessed with seagulls.”

“You know what?” I fold my arms over my chest, turning away from the catch board to face her full-on. “Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you how our game went.”

“Oh no, please tell me.” She chuckles softly, planting both hands on her hips. “I’m dying to know. You don’t look like you’re in any pain right now, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“The game went fine. I think our emergency session really helped.”

There’s a quick sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s so good to hear because—”

“Uh, sorry,” I cut her off, the incessant buzzing from my pocket serving as an unwelcome distraction. I take a subtle peek, noticing my best friend’s name flashing across the screen. “I need to take this call.”

“Oh, no worries.” She shrugs, waving and smiling as I press the phone to my ear. “I’ll see you later, Luca.”

My gaze follows along as she bops back to the lifeguard stand. There’s a definite pep in her step this morning. She seems more high-spirited than normal—refreshed—and she was apparently worried about me last night.

While Harper was on her date with Nate Gunderson, she couldn’t help but worry about my performance in the game. Or she was worried about my knee, at the very least.

That would make sense, considering she has a personal stake in my recovery.

Of course.

“Hey, man,” I mutter into the phone, attempting to keep the frustration from my voice. “Everything okay?”

“What?” Danny releases a derisive snort. “I can’t call you if it’s not Tuesday at six o’clock?”

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