Wilder Love by Rose Emery

Author:Rose, Emery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

26

Shane

There were a lot of things I’d missed while I was in prison, but surfing topped the list. Thank God the ocean hadn’t deserted me. I was alone out here this morning. And these days, that was how I liked it.

I felt her watching me. I didn’t know how I knew she was there. I was straddling my board, watching the horizon, my back to the beach. But I just knew. It was that heightened sense of awareness I used to feel whenever she was near me. I glanced over my shoulder and there she was, sitting on the beach like a mirage, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. For seven years I had tried to forget her. For seven years I had failed.

It felt like I’d been sucker-punched in the stomach. That was how it always had been, right from the first time I saw her. I dragged my eyes away from the lone figure on the beach and scrubbed my hands over my face as if that would help me clear the memories. I wasn’t ready to see her. Not ready for her to see the mess of a man I’d become. So, I floated on my board until it was time to go, hoping she’d disappear. I didn’t look at the beach to see if she was still there, watching me.

When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I paddled in. She stood up, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before she turned and walked away. As I undid my leg leash, I watched her leaving. She walked differently now, more graceful, more practiced, her posture perfect, like she was used to being on a catwalk or being watched. When she reached the top of the staircase, she didn’t even turn to look at me. Just kept going, disappearing behind the line of trees and scrubby bushes, and for a moment I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. When I reached the parking lot, there was no sign of her.

I showered off the saltwater in the outdoor shower and changed into a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and dusty work boots. Securing my board to the roof rack, I climbed into the driver’s seat as a black G-Wagen pulled in next to me. Dylan hopped out and circled his car, coming to stand by my window. Grudgingly, I rolled it down, not in the mood for chitchat. But then, Dylan had never been much of a conversationalist.

In the months since I’d been back in Costa del Rey, I’d seen him a handful of times, but we’d never spoken.

“You see my sister?”

“From afar.”

He nodded and patted the roof of my Jeep twice before he backed away. Nice chat. I reversed out of the spot, my eye catching on the Firewire board he took off his roof rack. Fuck me. A Mercedes and a Firewire. All I could do was laugh at the way life had flipped the tables.

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