Page 77 of Sparks Like Ours

Gia shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“But you’re thinking it.” Elle reached out her hand to touch Gia’sface, but she moved quickly away.

Elle took a moment, stunned.

Gia felt awful. It had been a reflex, motivated by her hellishmood, but now it was like toothpaste you couldn’t put back in the tube. Shewasn’t in control, and she was lashing out unfairly at Elle. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Would you, maybe, like me to get my own room? Give you somespace?”

“Whatever you want,” Gia mumbled. She couldn’t seem to push pastit in the moment, even for Elle, which said a lot about her level ofdevastation.

With a singular nod, Elle began moving about the hotel room,folding clothes and layering them into her suitcase.

Gia blinked. “Wait. I don’t want you to go. You shouldn’t haveto.”

“Which is it?”

Gia sighed, at a loss. “Both. Neither. I don’t know. Little out ofmy depth here.”

Elle straightened and turned to her, the hurt apparent on herface. “I know. Me, too. But maybe it’s better for both of us if we gave eachother a little breathing room tonight.”

“Whatever you say.”

Moments later, Elle pulled her case to the door. “We can talktomorrow. I’m really sorry about the round.” And with a click of the doorbehind her, she was gone.

Gia felt the loss immediately. She wanted to go after Elle, tellher she’d been an ass, pull her into her arms and not let go. Yet somethingheld her back. She was falling for Elle, and quickly. Her heart was no longerher own, and at the same time, she watched her career crumble, piece by piece,in front of her. How much deeper was she willing to let herself fall beforehaving to throw in the towel altogether, losing her spot on the tour?

The questions haunted Gia. The uncertain future did.

She had no clue which way was up.

* * *

“Wakey, wakey, surf fans. This is Shoshana from Surfline coming atya with all the updates from the Rip Curl Pro you’ll ever want in my hot littlehands, and let me tell you, it was a doozy from down under today. The women, asalways, are keeping it interesting. Lindy Ives advances to the final round inglorious style and will meet wildcard Heather Cho. In a surprising turn ofevents, number one Elle Britton went down in the semis. This means, win orlose, Ives takes the yellow leader jersey from Britton, who will now reside inthe number two spot. Ouch. Tough break for a fan favorite. You’ll get ’em nexttime, Elle. In the meantime, go, Lindy! You earned that jersey!”

Elle closed her laptop, deciding to maybe stay off the surfwebsites for a while.

She was back stateside after the demoralizing loss in thetournament. Gia had gone home a day ahead of her. They’d kissed and talkedbriefly and left things on a positive note, but things felt markedly differentnow, and Elle didn’t know how to fix it. Everything in her life was a giantquestion mark and she was having trouble getting her brain to focus onsomething as simple as making breakfast.

“You home?” a voice called from her entryway.

She popped her head around the corner and smiled widely atChristopher, happy to see a friendly face. “What? You don’t knock? You thinkyou live here now?” she asked playfully.

“I’ve been waiting for my key.” He strolled into her house lookinghandsome as ever, wearing salmon-colored shorts and a trim white polo. She wasfairly certain he’d gotten laid recently. “Glad you’re back,” he said, andkissed her cheek.

“Not exactly as victorious as I’d planned, but back all the same.”

“Yeah, was sorry to hear that.” He pointed at her floor. “What inthe world is that thing?”

“Foam roller. For my muscles before and after training. You workout. How do you not know this? You’re getting one for Christmas.”

He picked up the long foam tube and examined it. “Looks sexual tome.”

She shook her head. “Such a guy.”

“So, how are things?”

A normal answer would have been “They’re okay” or “I’m gettingby.” Instead she went with “I feel like my world is imploding. My relationshipand my job don’t seem to get along, and I’m caught in the middle and I don’thave a clue what to do.”

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