Page 41 of I Can't Even

Judging by the day I’d seen Liam in his coffee shop, his preferred time to surf was when the waves were in abundance. Clearly, one of the perks of owning your own coffee shop empire was the ability to take a break whenever you wanted one. I had checked the surf report and knew that right now was going to be the best time of the day.

I’d spent two days lying low and licking my wounds, prepping my gear. It was a relief to finally head for the nearby beach which was locals only. Because of its rocky coastline, Gull’s Harbor was a turfy stretch of beach where tourists and visitors were actively discouraged. By this, I mean with really harsh language and occasionally fists were involved.

When I arrived, nostalgia swelled inside me, churning just like the surf in front of me. The very few times I had come back to visit my family over the years, I hadn’t taken my board out of storage, mostly because I hadn’t wanted to run into Liam, but also because it was something I had loved so much that I didn’t want it to call me back to this place. I had needed to break away from Babs and her toxic hold and if I reconnected with the things I loved, like surfing and Liam, I might get sucked in, and I couldn’t let that happen. I was back now, and I wasn’t leaving, at least not for a while.

I locked my bike on the rack loaded with other cruisers, grabbing my bag and board. I started the steep walk down the trail that snaked the face of the cliffs to the narrow beach below. This particular surf spot was one of the few in the area that wasn’t peppered with big rocks. Since it had been a while, I thought it best to wait before taking on anything like Devil’s Backbone. Besides this was where I’d seen Liam go yesterday. Yeah, in a town this small, it’s pretty easy to track a person’s movements.

The weight of the board was familiar, but I was out of practice and it was a bit unwieldy. I slid on some loose gravel and had to catch myself before plowing into the back of another surfer headed down the trail. I managed to kick some rocks at his heels and he whipped around, probably to see if I was about to fall on him.

I gave him a small smile and a finger wave. He glowered.

“This is locals only, girl,” he said. He wore his hair in long dreadlocks that touched his waist. His black wet suit, which covered him from neck to ankle, accentuated his thin long limbs, giving him the look of a spider.

“I know, Ten,” I said. “I am a local or at least I used to be.”

He planted his vintage long board in the loose dirt and studied me like a lost person might study a map.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said. He smiled and his gold incisor winked at me in the sunlight. “Little surfer girl is back.”

“Not so little anymore,” I said. My face heated under his scrutiny.

Ten, so nicknamed because he could hang ten, meaning have all ten toes curled over the front edge of his board longer than anyone else in Gull’s Harbor or likely San Diego County, had seen me grow up on these beaches. He was a local legend, like Mission Beach had their SloMo, we had our Ten, and I was ridiculously pleased that he remembered me after so many years away.

“You and coffee boy used to spend hours down here on the water.” Ten smacked his lips together as if considering why I was alone. “He still comes down here.”

“So, I’ve heard,” I said. I glanced out at the surf as if studying the waves.

Ten was the watcher of our local beach and our downtown for that matter, given that he never had a permanent residence and yet never left town. No one knew exactly where he crashed but I suspected he moved from place to place and knew exactly who was who and what was what. If I was looking to see if Liam was serious about this girl he said he was going to marry, Ten might be the guy to ask.

“So, does coffee boy bring any girls down to the beach to surf?” I asked.

Ten blinked at me. His old eyes were full of information, unfortunately not the kind that answered my questions. “He almost got himself killed on Devil’s Backbone when you left.”

There was no judgment in his voice just facts, but it made my breath catch and my heart hurt all the same. I hung my head. What was I doing here? I had no right to try and win Liam back after what I’d done to him.

“But he didn’t,” Ten said. His voice was suddenly upbeat as if he’d just announced great news. “And now surfer girl, the only woman I’ve ever seen him surf with, is here. So that’s an interesting development, don’t you think?”

My head snapped up and I met his considering gaze. I wondered if my relief showed. Probably. I decided I didn’t care. Liam’s whatever she was, I refused to call her his girlfriend, didn’t surf. That was a check for me in the cool chick column. Booyah.

“Did you wax your board?” Ten asked.

“Duh,” I said.

“Don’t drop in on anyone.”

“As if.”

“And don’t be a kook,” he said.

“Really?” I asked. “You’re calling me a kook, like I’m a noob who’s never surfed.”

“I didn’t call you one,” he argued. “I said ‘don’t be one.’ There’s a difference.”

“I think I can handle it,” I said. “It hasn’t been that long.”

He studied me for a moment and then his brown wrinkled face burst into a huge smile.

“Yes, but can you handle him? Hee hee.” Ten hooted and turned back to the path. He was humming and it took me a minute to recognize the theme to the old TV show The Love Boat.

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