Authors: Emily Snow
myself for being so difficult, so afraid of
starting a new relationship, afraid of
happiness, I grabbed my board and joined
Paige and Eric.
Chapter Ten
If Cooper was in a bad mood, he
didn’t show it Thursday morning during
our lesson. Maybe it was because for the
first time, we took on real waves and he
could tell I was scared shitless. Or
because he knew that after the weekend
was over, shooting would begin—which,
to be honest, also made me scared
shitless. When I spoke to James Dickson
and Kevin that evening on a conference
call, Dickson told me that some of the
crew had already started arriving.
“Yay for me,” I said because I knew
that the film crew and their cameras
would attract the paparazzi. Nikons and
Canons would suddenly become my worst
enemies again. I was ecstatic (and
shocked) that I hadn’t been photographed,
and I didn’t want it to end just yet.
“How’s the training going?” Dickson
asked, changing the subject.
I decided not to tell him how Cooper
had made me practice pop ups for days
and switched the game on me with paddle
boarding at one point. “We tackled small
waves today,” I said. It was the truth and
I’d only fallen once, taking in a mouthful
of salt. Cooper had told me I looked better
than some of the people he’d trained for
months, and I’d blushed like an idiot.
No matter how much I pushed him
away, that guy was slowly unraveling me.
“Small waves are good,” Kevin spoke
up enthusiastically, and I imagined him
fidgeting with his lower lip as he prayed I
wouldn’t say anything screwed up during
this call.
“I completely agree,” Dickson said.
He hesitated for a moment, then he asked,
“And you’ve got the script down?”
“Not only have I watched the original
like 20 times now, I know Alyssa Mayer
better than I know Willow Avery,” I said,
referring to the girl I was about to become
for at least the next month and a half of my
life, maybe even more. I liked the escape
of being someone else for a little while,
even if that imaginary person had already
been played by another actress.
Dickson sighed. “Perfect. I’ve got to
go to dinner with my wife, but I’ll see you
at the end of the weekend. You be good,
Willow.”
“Can’t wait,” I said. As soon as the
conference call was disconnected, Kevin
called me back and asked a million more
questions. I answered them as I shuffled
around the kitchen preparing my dinner—
tilapia and half a baked sweet potato.
As I stared at the fish in my plate, I
found myself wondering what Cooper,
Paige, and Eric were eating tonight.
“Willow? Willow?”
I sat down alone at the kitchen table
and pulled a rush of air through my
clenched teeth. “Yes?”
“You’re distant tonight. You’re not . . .
doing anything are you? Tom Miller
refuses to answer any of my messages so .
. .”
Dropping my fork onto my plate, I
demanded. “You’re pumping my
bodyguard about me?”
Kevin was unapologetic. “We need
you at your best for this film.”
“Thanks for fucking believing in me,
but the answer is no, I’m not on anything.
Leave Miller alone.”
When we hung up shortly thereafter, I
hoped Kevin wouldn’t call back anytime
soon. I knew he meant well—in his own
way—but space from him was often a
good thing.
The next morning, when Miller came
downstairs to take me to surf lessons, the
conversation with Kevin was still fresh on
my mind. “Not quite done dressing,” I
said, holding the door open for him to
come inside. He sat in the recliner close
to the door, staring at the toes of his white,
K-Swiss sneakers as I rushed to find the
black tank top I’d picked out for myself
earlier. When I located it between the
couch and one of the side tables, I heaved
a sigh.
“I need to clean up,” I muttered and
Miller shook his head in agreement. After
I pulled the top over my head and tied my
dark hair up into a high ponytail, I sighed.
“Miller, I’m just going to get this out right
now—thank you.”
He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his
head to one side. “For what?”
“For making these last several days
not completely suck. For not wanting to . .
. well, you know. For not reporting my
every move to my agent.”
Miller had tanned recently at the
nearby gym he’d joined, but his flush was
still vivid. He shuffled his feet together.
“Have to say, Willow, you’re creeping me
out.”
“I know that I can be . . .” The words
Cooper had directed at me played in my
mind again, and I trembled before slinking
down on the edge of the couch to put on
my shoes. “I know that I’m difficult, but
thanks for not talking to my agent about
me.”
Miller lifted his giant shoulders. “I’m
here for you. Not your agent or your
parents or James Dickson. And truth be
told, I’m doing a shitty job.”
Biting my lip, I frowned and clutched
my flip flop, bending the rubbery material.
“What do you mean?” Had I misread him?
“You’re not exactly hard to guard.
You go to your lessons, to your community
service, and you go home.”
Relaxing, I slid my shoe on and
grabbed my bag from the floor. “Thanks
for reminding how boring I am.” When I
winked at him, he chuckled. “Ready?” I
asked, walking to the front door.
“You’ve got it, boss.”
When we arrived at Cooper’s place,
not only was Paige’s gray Grand Caravan
there, parked behind Eric’s truck, but
when I went inside, Cooper met me in the
foyer with his finger over his mouth.
“They’re asleep in the den,” he
mouthed, sliding his hand into mine to
guide me outside. Delicious tingles crept
up my arm, through the rest of my body,
and as the warning bells in my head went
off, I ignored them. “Ready to bomb?” he
asked once we were on the deck. I cocked
an eyebrow and he laughed, shaking his
head. “Shit, surfer talk. Um . . . you ready
to try a big wave?”
“Totally amped,” I said.
As he turned to pick up our boards
from the deck floor, I stopped him,
wrapping my fingertips around his
forearm. He stared at me with questioning
eyes as I leaned in close to finally read the
tattoo running up his side. “And quiet
sleep and a sweet dream when the long
trick's over,” I murmured aloud.
“It’s a quote. John Masefield.”
Nodding, I took things a step further,
reaching out to touch him. He went still,
but he didn’t stop me as I traced my
fingertip over each intricate letter.
“If that were only your tongue,” he
said once I was finished. He grabbed the
boards and stood to face me. Even though
there were several inches of fiberglass
wedged between our bodies, I could
practically feel his on top of mine. I wet
my lips, and he groaned. “I wasn’t exactly
talking about on your own lips, but that
works.”
I pulled my board out of his grip, my
fingertips skimming his, and balanced it
on top of my head. “I’m sorry,” I said, as
we padded barefoot to where the waves
were crashing more violently than any day
I’d been here. He gave me a look, waiting
for me to elaborate, and I sighed. Why did
he have to make it so hard? “About the
other night. Being so . . .”
“Difficult?”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“I’m not the one apologizing for being
difficult, am I?”
I sighed, shaking my head, and
shuffled my feet, kicking up sand. “I’m not
good with relationships,” I said.
“We could learn,” he said, and I
shivered. “But for now, let’s just enjoy
this.”
We pushed our boards into the sea,
sloshing out past the white water. Once
the water came up just under my breasts,
Cooper nodded. “Okay, push off the floor
with your feet and—”
Before he could finish speaking, I
kicked off the sand with balls of my feet
and easily slid my body onto the purple
and white board. I looked over at him,
grinning, as I began to paddle my arms
through the water using long strokes. He
was right behind me.
“Confident much?” he asked.
“I’ve got the best teacher, don’t I?”
He tilted his head back. “Well, yes,
but I don’t want you to get in over your
head.”
“You said you’ll look after me,” I said
teasingly, but the fiercely protective
expression that took over his face made
some of that light-heartedness disappear.
When he looked at me like that, I felt like
the sea could drain dry and he wouldn’t
even notice.
“Always,” he said. Then he frowned,
breaking our eye contact, and shook his
head. “We’re too far out, Wills. Let’s go
back some.”
“Lame ass,” I said, but I began to
paddle my board around to take his
advice. I expected him to come back with
something witty and sexy or so intense it
made my stomach and between my legs
hurt. “What no come back?” I asked.
“Paddle back,” he said. “Now!”
It was only then that I saw, and heard,
the giant wall of water coming toward us.
My heart hurled itself into my throat,
choking me, and my body went numb. For
a moment, I couldn’t move or breathe—all
I could do was watch the wave grow
closer, bigger.
Cooper’s accented voice finally broke
through my haze, shouting over and over
again for me to paddle.
I pumped my arms hard, drifting my
board over the first wave. When I popped
up, taking on the second, I could have
sworn I heard Cooper say something. But
then the next swell came at me, knocking
me off my board. The sea crashed over my
head, dragging me beneath the white
water, and the only thing I heard was the
sound of my heart exploding inside of my
ears.
I fought the sea—tried to use the
surfboard string attached to my ankle to
claw myself back to the surface—but all
that did for me was yank me down even
further. When my feet touched the bottom,
terror ripped through my body.
Then, a pair of familiar arms wrapped
around my waist.
A moment later, Cooper and I broke
the surface, both of us gasping for air.
My head was spinning as he
whispered repeatedly, “You’re alright.”
I was numb as he helped me climb
onto my board. He pushed me back to
shore in silence, but once we hit the sand,
and he stood over me, examining me, all I
could think about was how he’d saved me.
How he’d found me.
But a moment later when I wrapped
myself around him, seeking out his tongue
with my own, he pushed away from me.
“You almost drowned, Wills,” he said
through clenched teeth.
He was rejecting me. Holy fuck he
was actually rejecting me after all the
effort he’d put into telling me how much
he wanted me.
I wouldn’t let him know how badly
that stung. Trying to seem nonchalant
about the fact I’d almost drowned and
he’d shoved me away only moments later,
I said, “Thanks for looking out for me.” I
turned away from him, yanking my
hairband out, releasing my dark hair to
tumble down my back in a mess of tangles.
When I faced him again, his body tensed
up, and I mentally slapped myself.
“What I mean is—thank you for
pulling me back in. I don’t want to drown
before . . .”
Before what, Willow? Before you can
fuck up again?
I ignored that voice, bending down
when he did to help him pick up our
boards. Our hands reached for my purple
one at the exact same time and he had no
other choice but look up.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, unable to
form any other words.
He laughed, shaking his head, as he
tugged the board from my grip and stood
up. “When you’re like this, I can’t—”
“Can’t what?”
He started the trek back to his house,
so I scrambled to my feet, ignoring my
aching muscles and caught up to him. He
looked down at me and gave me a tortured
smile. Didn’t he know I was a sucker for
angsty, tortured looks?
“I want to kiss you. Again and again,”
he said in a hoarse voice.
“You had your chance, so why didn’t
you?” I demanded. He gave me a dark
look and started to turn away, but I
grabbed his free arm, forcing him to look
at me. “Don’t be fucking wishy-washy,
Cooper.”
He threw both the boards down. They
fell into the sand, clanged against each
other, as he yanked my body against his. I