Page 40 of Below the Barrel

“You take the first one,” she calls out, but I shake my head.

“You go. Show ‘em what you’ve got.”

She hesitates for a second before turning her board toward the wave. Her paddling is strong, determined. I watch as she drops in, her timing perfect, the wave lifting her as she flies down the face. It’s a beauty of a wave, and she’s riding it like it’s hers.

I sit back for a second, just watching her. Her cutbacks are sharp, her form perfect. She’s hitting every section exactly like we talked about. When she hits the middle section, she croucheslow disappearing into the barrel, completely tucked inside the tube. I hold my breath. She’s in deep, but I know she’s got it. The seconds tick by, and just when I think the wave might take her, she comes flying out, riding clean and sure.

Damn. She looks incredible out there. The announcer’s voice crackles over the speaker as the crowd cheers, but I barely hear it. My heart’s still hammering from watching her crush that ride.

My turn.

Positioning myself at The Point as the next set rolls in, I feel the wave begin to swell beneath me. I paddle hard, feeling the rush of the drop as I’m lifted, gravity pulling me down the steep face. The power of the wave hits me like a freight train, but I’m in control, moving with it, not against it.

I carve through the top section, pushing my board to the limit. Every cutback, every turn is sharp, deliberate. I’m showing them exactly what I’ve got, what Gabriel’s drilled into us over the years. The water sprays in my face as I carve back into the wave, the wind rushing through my hair.

The middle section comes up fast, the barrel forming. I crouch low, lining up the tube perfectly. The world goes silent as I slip inside, the roar of the wave enveloping me. Inside the barrel, time seems to slow—just me and the ocean. The pulse of the wave thrums through my board, through my bones, and I can feel the ocean’s raw power beneath me. It’s risky, but that’s what makes it so damn exhilarating.

I shoot out of the tube just as the wave starts to close, my timing perfect. Shish Kebabs is next, the section that’s claimed plenty of surfers. The water speeds up as I hit the inside section, and I know I’ve only got seconds before this thing turns deadly. With one sharp curve, I pull out of the wave, just before it swallows itself.

I ride it all the way to the shore, heart pounding, chest heaving. The crowd erupts as I kick out, and I can hear theannouncers calling out my score. I look over at Maliah, who’s waiting for me at the shore, her face lit up with a huge grin.

“Not bad, huh?” she teases, clearly buzzing from her ride.

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Not bad? You killed it out there.”

She scoffs playfully, but there’s something softer in her eyes when she looks at me today. “You didn’t do too bad yourself.”

I flash her a grin as the world around us blurs. The cheers of the crowd, the cameras—none of it matters. It’s just me and her, riding the high of the competition and that unspoken connection between us.

The scoreboard flashes our combined scores, and I feel a surge of pride as we lock in first place.

“We did it,” I say, unable to hold back my grin.

Maliah nods, her eyes sparkling as she smiles up at me. “Yeah. We really did.”

FOURTEEN

MALIAH | TAVARUA, FIJI

The dayssince our big win at Cloudbreak have been filled with a quiet kind of tension—more so on Koa’s part. I, on the other hand, have been enjoying bugging him every chance I get. Subtle, small touches here and there, just enough to get under his skin. And Ilovewatching him try to control himself each time.

We walk side by side from the beach back to our villa, the warm Fijian air thick with the scent of frangipani. I purposely let my hand drift just slightly, grazing Koa’s as we walk. I watch from the corner of my eye as he stiffens beside me, his fingers twitching, but he doesn’t pull away. A smirk tugs at my lips as I glance up at him, his face unreadable—at least to anyone who doesn’t know him as well as I do.

“You okay?” I ask innocently.

His grey eyes flicker down to mine, a mixture of amusement and something darker hidden behind them. “Just fine, Mal,” he says, voice strained but steady.

I chuckle softly and look away, knowing I’m driving him crazy, but not quite ready to let up yet.

When we reach the villa, I collapse onto the couch, stretching out with a groan. My damp hair clings to my neck, and I push itaside lazily, trying to cool off. My shirt rides up a little, exposing my stomach, but I don’t care. I’m too drained from our practice to worry about modesty right now. Plus, it isn’t anything Koa hasn’t already seen.

“Finally,” I breathe, sinking deeper into the cushions. This couch feels like a cloud after being out in the sun all day.

Koa stands a few feet away, dropping his board by the door and kicking off his sandals. I can feel his gaze on me before he speaks.

“You look comfortable,” he says casually, though there’s a teasing edge in his voice. It’s the same playful tone he always uses when he’s trying to stir something in me.

I give him a sly smile. “You should try it sometime.”

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