Page 3 of Resorting to Romance

I hear my sister tell Bodhi, “He loves him.”

“Yeah. He does,” Bodhi agrees.

Traitors. Dog-abandoning traitors. I chuckle to myself as the door falls shut behind me and the cool night air fills my lungs.

“Bruh!” Ben shouts from the back door of the watersports shack. “Did you see me catch that perfect left?”

“You’re dripping water all over the floor.” I raise an eyebrow at Ben, and he backs out the door, standing on the deck and smiling like a man without a care in the world.

Drops of water still roll off his hair, chest, and the wetsuit dangling at his hips after the surf session he and I had this morning. Only I called it early, paddled in, went home, showered, fed that dog who lives in my house, and came back here to open the shop, while Ben continued to catch some of the best waves we’ve had all season.

Kalaine and Bodhi left yesterday, and my house already feels strangely empty in the wake of their absence.

“But did you see the wave?” Ben’s grin splits his face.

“Before I paddled in?”

“Yeah. It was my best wave yet since I moved to Marbella.”

“I think I saw the one.” I smile back at him.

“Dude. This is the life.”

I nod. He’s not wrong. We surf, teach watersports, live on a beautiful island with an exclusive resort as our backdrop. And when we want time off, we cover for one another because the employees out here may as well be family. Thisisthe life. Somehow, I can’t quite muster the enthusiasm Ben seems to easily tap into. He’s the geyser on top of a natural spring of effervescent optimism. And I love him for it.

I’m more of a still waters run deep guy. No ripples. No waves. Steady, calm, reliable. I bat away the next word floating through my head:boring.

Kai, you areboring.

When did I become boring? I’m an ex pro surfer, a Hawaiian, a watersports instructor on an island most people would dream of calling home. I’m not boring.

I’m … reliable, consistent, steady …

Yeah. I think I might be boring.

“How’d everything go with Bodhi and Kalaine?”

Ben’s question snaps me out of my self-flagellating spiral.

“Fine. Good. They left early. I borrowed a golf cart and hauled them and their luggage to the ferry before dawn yesterday.”

“And now what?”

“They head to Hawaii. They’re staying with my parents. One contest on Oahu. Then they surf Jaws. I think it’s a little over a week on the islands and then they fly to Portugal for another week. Then they'll be back here.”

“Yeah. Not them. I got all that when I talked to Bodhi. Now what for you, boss man?”

Forme?

I just shrug.

“Dog sitting. Surf lessons. Enjoying some peace and quiet.”

Ben shakes his head like I’m pathetic.

I lived that life—pro surfing with Bodhi and my sister. I actually made the circuit before the two of them. Eventually, we lived that life together, competing, traveling, training. Now I keep thehome fires burning while they’re off living the dream. I don’t mind solitude. Sometimes I prefer it, actually.

Ben walks out to the outdoor shower to rinse off. When he’s back and changed into his shorts and T-shirt, he approaches the counter where I’m sitting on a stool behind the cash register.

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