Page 42 of Finish Line

Something in my voice catches her attention, her head turning away from the waves and their semi-hypnotic pull.

“You aren’t ready to talk to the guys, but just consider reaching out to them at some point. It doesn’t have to be right away. Fuck, it doesn’t even have to be soon. Just remember, even though they had their doubts, nobody is perfect… Well, except me.” I stand and waggle my eyebrows at her.

She snorts as she rises, smacking me on the arm. “I understand what you’re saying.”

“Good. I’m going to go surfing and let you get on with your day.”

Her brows shoot up. “You know how to surf?”

“Yep. I love it.” I smile. “If you want to learn later, I’ll teach you. Also, I’m sure Frank didn’t tell you this, but the Knights have jet skis, boats, and all that fun stuff in storage. We can always break some of those out.”

“Maybe later.” Her smile toward me is a bit hesitant and sad. “You gave me a lot to consider.”

“Sure.” I blow her a kiss and head upstairs to change into my board shorts.

I hate seeing her so defeated. It’s so unlike her. She’s lost her fire, and I want her to find it again.

The surfboards are stored in the boathouse. I look through them and pick one that should work before I hike back to the beach. I take a couple of deep breaths, run to the surf, and paddle out.

Out in the water, I lose track of time, like I always do. It’s one of my happy places—the smell of brine, the crystal blue water surrounded by lush green foliage. The gentle rise and fall of the board I sit on brings with it peace and quiet. Out here, the only sound comes from the rush of water and the occasional bird.

As I wait for a good wave, I peer toward the house, and to my surprise, I find Shelby sitting on the beach, watching me.

I glance behind me, and a wave is coming, so I paddle. I pop up, the board gliding across the wave. Wanting to show off for her a bit, I try to pull a move I used to be able to do in my sleep, but I don’t execute it right. My balance shifts in the wrong direction, causing gravity to rip the board out from under me.

The force of the water sucks me into the surf and tosses me around before spitting me out near the shoreline. I grab my board, wading the last few feet, collapsing in the sand, and catching my breath.

Shelby jogs the distance from her chair to me. “Cam! Are you hurt?”

I sit up. “No, just embarrassed.”

She cocks her head to the side, her nose scrunching in that adorable way she does. “Why are you embarrassed?”

I scrub my hand on the back of my neck. “The move I was just trying to do, I used to do it all the time. I wanted to show off, and I failed.”

She sits close to me but keeps a bit of space between us, enough so I can’t reach out to touch her. “You’re good at surfing.”

“I love it. To me, it’s like riding my bike. It clears my head,” I admit.

We sit in silence for a while. It’s not awkward, exactly, but it isn’t the easy comfort we had before everything happened. I shift around, the salt water and sand drying on my skin and hair uncomfortable and chafing.

Unable to stand the sand in my shorts, I get to my feet. “I’m going to wash off. I’ll see you back at the house.”

Shelby glances at me before she goes back to watching the ocean. I stand, pick up my board, and head up to the outdoor shower by the pool.

For the rest of the night, I do my best to stay out of her way. I hate every minute, but I promised to give her space. The only time I don’t is when she’s having a nightmare. I don’t have it in me to let her suffer like that. I’ll always run down to her and soothe her the best I can.

She shouldn’t have to go through everything all over again by herself. Like last night, she grabs my hand and doesn’t let me leave.

But this time, I slip away in the morning before she wakes up.

I’ve been here for two weeks now.

Shelby wakes every morning and does her workout. We eat breakfast together, then separate. She says nothing about staying away, so I keep doing it.

I’m in my room, video-chatting with the guys, using a nondescript wall so they can’t figure out where Shelby and I are.

“How’s Shelby doing?” Mav swivels his head around, trying to find a clue where we are.

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