Page 64 of Fighting With Light
He wraps his other arm around me and rolls toward us so he’s on top. Propped up on his elbows, he looks down at me and I wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him down. He tucks his nose into my neck and rolls again so we’re on our side and he’s hugging me to him. In the cocoon of his chest, I take a deep breath and focus on the warmth coming from his body. He kisses my head and sighs. “If I didn’t have a surf competition to win, then we wouldn’t be going anywhere. I’d give you every reason to stay,” he says into my hair.
“I’d just need one,” I mumble.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I sigh. I know we won’t talk about last night and I don’t think I’m ready. Right now, he needs to focus on surfing and that conversation would only be a distraction.
***
Liam and I are on our way to the beach again. I’ve tried to distract myself by finding the cutest bikini I own and making sure Liam sees it. He did. He stared at me long and hard, as if he was debating on skipping the surfing competition. It still hasn’t relieved the pang in my chest.
Last night won’t stop playing in my head. It was everything I thought it would be and more. It’s the scary kind ofmore.It’s the I’m rethinking everything in my life and trying to figure out if it can be different—more. I want it to be different. I glance at him, focused on the road ahead of us, and he lifts his handoff the gear and laces his fingers through mine. He doesn’t say a word, but his hand holding mine speaks volumes.
He parks, gets his surfboard, and it feels like we’re leaving even though he’s just going a different direction down the beach. I’ll see him when he’s done, yet my stomach feels queasy with all the butterflies flying around in it. There is such a thing astoomany butterflies in your stomach…who knew?
“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit. Go get ’em, surfer boy.” I wink, and turn to go to the spot I’ve been to four times now. Then Liam grabs my wrist and yanks me straight into his chest. With a hand at the front of my neck and the other at my lower back, he slams his lips on mine. I melt into him as his tongue drags across mine and his fingers move to my racing pulse. He grabs my lower lip and pulls before lifting his head away, leaving me utterly breathless and entirely weak in the knees. Not once has a man ever made meweak in the knees.
But that was before you met Liam Coldwell, Aelia.
He looks into my eyes for a moment. “Yeah, I’m ready now,” he mutters.
Still speechless, he releases me, holding my hip while I get my bearings again, and he leans down, grabbing his bag and his board.
He hitches his shoulder up, and reaches for my face, rubbing his thumb across my cheekbone.
“I think I enjoy you speechless, princess. Let’s make it a habit, yeah?” he says, and thick heat blankets me.This man.
I shake my head and he grins before turning towards the check-in tent.
I finally get my feet to move, grab the bag I dropped, and go to my spot on the beach to watch. I’ve seen him surf when he was having fun, but I can’t wait to see the beast of a man he is when there is a title on the line. I smile at the waves as the excitement of watching him makes my lungs tighten in anticipation.
For the time we do have together, I think we’re both going to be breathless.
25
Liam
The surf looks great,the weather is perfect, and it’s time for me to ride these waves. The sun is out, and it’s nice and warm on my back. I was worried my mind would keep me locked in last night, but something about Aelia being here and what we shared last night has given me more fuel to my fire. I’m ready. I feel ready.
I lean forward on my board while my competitors prepare to catch their waves. We’re waiting for the judges to start the heat, but it’s taking a while. The adrenaline is pumping and it needs to be expended. I try to ignore my irritation by looking for Aelia on the beach.
The bright red bikini she picked out helps me spot her all the way to shore as she stands in the water with her hands on her hips and a hat on her head. She must have ditched the crochet cover-up she was wearing. The red triangles over her body are like a red flag that I want her to keep waving.
She woke me up last night, but I didn’t open my eyes. I heard her get up and figured she was just going to the bathroom, but then I heard her quiet cries. She probably thinks that I didn’t hear her, and I wasn’t sure what to do or if she wanted me to do anything. At first I thought maybe something happened and she would go back to her room, but she didn’t. She got back in bed and attached herself to me as if I was about to be ripped from her.
Is it possible to mourn something that hasn’t even happened yet? I shake my head, trying not to think about that part because I don’t need to focus on a future that is already written. I need to focus on my present and that’s scoring my points to get me into the next round.
The flag waves and the horn sounds across the water. The other two guys in my heat all nod to each other and we prep ourselves, ready to paddle into the wave. I take a deep breath, look behind me, glance at the others around me, and wait until I feel it. I’ve found that if I focus on the water and the way it rolls beneath my board, I’ll know when to catch the wave. It’s an innate connection between me and the ocean. I’ve tested the intuition so many times I can’t fault it. Waves start to transition as they make their way toward us and I remain on my board while Jordan Lewis of South Africa, takes off, paddling hard, ready to get to his feet. The height increases and then he dips into the peak of the break, disappearing from sight.
I wait for him and then close my eyes, feeling the way the water moves under me. The next group comes, and it feels like it will be a set wave, the perfect waves. I take my moment, paddling hard. The wave starts to curl faster, and I dip into it doing a bottom turn and the way the wave breaks harder, I lean into it riding the barrel. It gets tighter and tighter as I get closer to the end. Bending my knees harder, the board goes faster until the barrel is about to close in and I zip out of it as if I’m flying. I smile to myself, drop off my board, and then hop back on to start paddling back out because the Sea-Doo has two other surfers.
There are three competitors in this heat, but we only have thirty minutes, so I have to hurry to get behind the waves to go again. As I take the route around James Lee from Australia, I watch him before I bob over the surface of the wave to get onshore.
Focusing on getting further out, I prep myself to go again, waiting for the right wave. I don’t wait long and take my next one, dipping into it. My balance falters a bit and I grit my teeth, knowing I’ll lose points for that. I ride the wave, pulling out as many technical moves as I can muster in such a quick ride. I gain extra speed, throwing top turn after top turn. And then take the jump I know is risky because I’m losing the wave, but I go for it, launching myself off the tip of the wave and catching air. I grab my board and then release as I land back in the water, ending my turn.
Dropping down to my stomach, I paddle back out, knowing I have enough time for one more ride. After I get behind the waves, my South Africancompetitor, Jordan Lewis, yells out for me, “Bro! That was some killer air! Ballsy, man!” he says.
“Thanks, man,” I call back, running my hands through my hair to push it out of my face. He takes off on the next wave and I wait my turn. I don’t have time to waste, so I have to take whatever is given to me and go for it.
