Page 68 of Catch a Wave

He chuckles, and turns so he’s facing the bar again. Then he tilts his head in my direction. “Getting up for Shaka’s not the same as having a job, and you know it.”

Nothing is the same. Nothing.

Riley sets a drink in front of Bodhi. It’s iced and the colors bleed together in liquid layers: a translucent minty green, then light yellow with a red layer on the bottom.

“Give it a stir before drinking,” Riley says. “The layers are just for show.”

Bodhi spins the straw in the drink and it turns a peachy orange. Like magic.

“What’s this called?” He looks up at Riley.

“It’s the Bodhi. If you approve.”

Bodhi takes a sip. “Riley. You are pure genius. What’s in this? It’s the bomb.”

“Green coffee extract, lemonade, and cherry syrup, all over crushed ice. I make the syrup from scratch here at the shop. This drink’s chill and beachy and fun—like you.”

Bodhi smiles at Riley. “Mavs. You gotta try this.”

Bodhi holds the drink up to my mouth and I take a sip through the same straw he did. Our eyes connect. I close mine, but it doesn’t help. I can’t shut him out anymore. I don’t even know if I want to.

“Delicious,” I tell Riley.

“Right?” Bodhi smiles triumphantly. “I got a drink named after me. Man. I can retire in peace now.”

He seems playful, but a note of wistfulness trails behind his words. I’m probably the only one who notices. There’s no hiding the nuances of what we’re feeling or thinking from one another.

Bodhi sips his drink, chatting comfortably with the four of us while he rests between me and Summer. He’s so close, and yet completely off-limits. When he sets his empty glass on the counter, he thanks Riley, and then he heads back out to the watersports shack.

I watch him go, completely lost in my own thoughts while my head swivels in his direction.

“So?” Summer looks at me pointedly when I turn my head back toward the coffee bar.

“Hmmm?”

“Your thoughts on Bodhi …”

“My thoughts?”

“How is it going? You’re looking at him like he’s a steak and you’re one of the guys on Dude Perfect.”

I chuckle. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, girl.”

Riley and Summer share a look, and then Clarissa says, “Complicated is the touchstone of all good romances. Imagine a simple romance? Boy meets girl. They fall in love. The end. Bo-ring.”

“That was us, though.” I shock myself by sharing so easily. “We fell quickly and easily, and never had an ounce of drama—unless you count my brother being none too happy about his best friend dating his baby sister.”

It’s just the four of us at the bar. The other patrons are all engaged in conversations around the room or out on the patio.

I tell them all about how Bodhi and I met and started dating. I wrap up my story by saying, “When I met him, that piece of me recognized him as my missing counterpart—like a ship pullinginto the harbor and finding its slip. I’ve never felt so drawn to anyone in my life. It sounds crazy when I describe it out loud.”

“Soulmates.” Clarissa nods in an understanding way.

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates,” I confess. “But I definitely know we had something special. I’ve never felt anything near what we had with anyone else.”

“You’re talking in the past tense,” Riley notes.

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