Page 93 of Sparks Like Ours

“Of course, and thanks, Mom. For all of it.”

“Just part of the job.”

When they clicked off the call, Elle wasn’t sure what to do with herself.The storm, the one that, just a few moments ago, seemed threatening and dark,was now beautiful and mysterious. She snuggled further into the maroon hoodieshe’d grown to love and watched the rain in wonder. She didn’t know what camenext, but Elle knew one thing for certain: The world never ceased to amaze her.She tapped her lips in anticipation.

Chapter Twenty

It was seventy-four degrees in the west corner of Maui, typical forJuly. Gia liked the even temperatures of these summer tournaments. There wassomething motivating about them that made her fight that much harder to win. Ifthe conditions were ideal, her surfing should be, too. And while winning wasnice, it was not her top priority for the trip. She had her sights set onanother goal: taking control of her life, instead of letting her life controlher. She just needed to talk to Elle, convince her of the same.

Gia knew in her heart they belonged together, and if she had tosacrifice to make that a reality, she was ready to do that. She only hoped Ellewould be willing to do the same.

The tournament had gotten off to a positive start. Gia had easilyadvanced through rounds one and two. Elle had crushed them. She was unstoppablelately, which made Gia keep her distance. She wanted more than anything to talkwith Elle right away, to confess all, but she knew the ramifications it couldhave on Elle’s tournament performance.

She’d simply have to wait. Even if it killed her.

Instead of talking to Elle, she watched her, attended every heat,and cheered her on each step of the way. She’d glanced up at the competitors’reserved section during her own heats, but Elle hadn’t made an appearance.Given what they’d decided—no distractions—it made sense. It didn’t stop herfrom hoping.

Midweek, they ran into each other in the lobby of a café attachedto the resort. Gia had agreed to have dinner with one of the surfers on thetour, Sasha Christianson, to catch up and hang out. Elle was there with hermedia manager.

“Hey, you,” Elle said, as they waited to be seated.

Gia smiled. “Hi. Congrats on such a great showing.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not doing so bad yourself.” The words trailedoff, the conversation finished, but their eye contact held. So many unspokenwords passed between them in that moment. Gia felt just as connected to Elle asever. She longed to reach for her, to trash their respective dinner plans andeat together, talk for hours, and maybe sneak away to her room later, just thetwo of them. What she wouldn’t give to do just that.

Elle’s table was ready. “You two enjoy your meal,” she said to Giaand Sasha. She looked back once over her shoulder at Gia as she walked, andevery part of Gia went warm. She blinked. She longed for Elle, but she could bepatient. She could do this.

The next day, Gia and Elle both cruised into the semis in aglorious showing but faced off against different opponents. Elle brought in asolid 14.5 to advance to the finals. If she won there, she’d end the year asworld champion, which had Gia tingling with excitement for her at just theidea. In many ways, she wanted Elle to take the tournament for that veryreason, her own results be damned. This was huge!

A day later, Gia went down in the semis against Lindy Ives, whowould now challenge Elle for the top spot in a finals heat not to be missed.Gia took the loss in stride, keeping her eye on the bigger picture. She’d had agreat time surfing that week and had so much more to look forward to. Whatwould have once crushed her was just another day at the office. The new outlookwas a wonderful weight off her shoulders, and she wondered now why it had takenher so long to get here. She could definitely get used to this and realized,suddenly, she’d found the joy of the sport all over again.

This year’s world title would literally come down to who took thefinal heat, Elle Britton or Lindy Ives. The media was having a field day withthe matchup, recounting the careers of each and what brought them to this finalshowdown. The entire resort was tied up with ribbons of anticipation. Gia’sheart was in her throat just thinking about it. She was nervous as hell. Thiswas everything for Elle, and for Gia by default.

The next time she saw Elle was in the lobby that night. Her gazewas pulled to Elle like a magnet, and the beauty she saw stole her breath. Ellewore a black cocktail dress and was clearly headed out for a nice evening. Herhair was pulled partially back, with blond layered on blond, cascading down herback. With her clutch bag in hand, she paused when she saw Gia, who felt drab comparedto Elle, in just jeans and a zip-up hoodie.

“You’re off somewhere important,” Gia said as they neared eachother. They exchanged a smile and Gia shook her head in wonder. Elle radiatedin that dress. It came in at the waist and dipped just low enough in front, notto mention the glamorous addition of the high heels and diamond earrings. Theway she looked, Gia was confident Elle’s photo would headline every sportsgossip site by morning. Rightfully so.

Elle sighed. “Rip Curl is hosting a party for its team of surfersand a string of VIPs.”

“Those tend to be fun.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, unconvincingly. “I hope so.”

“Congratulations on the finals. I’m thrilled for you, Elle. It’syours tomorrow. There is no doubt in my mind.”

“Thank you.” A pause. Elle met her gaze. “Will you be staying forthe heat?”

Gia smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” They stared at eachother until Gia finally remembered herself. This wasn’t the time for that. “Youhave a good night, Elle.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

Gia headed to the elevator, all set for her own very wild night offlipping through the local stations and ordering in. Maybe a pizza. She wasdone for the season. She could indulge with a few extra carbs. As the elevatordoors closed, she pressed the button for her floor and waited, watching thenumbers above the door. Only they didn’t move, nor did the elevator.

Instead the doors slid opened and Elle stepped inside. “This isstupid,” she said.

“The party?” Gia asked, confused. What was happening? The doorsclosed behind Elle, and the elevator kicked into action, taking them to theeighteenth floor, just as Gia had requested. Gia squinted at her, perplexed.

“Not the party,” Elle said, clearly worked up. She gesturedbetween them. “This. Us. What we’re doing. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’veever been a part of, and I refuse to be ridiculous anymore.”

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