Page 73 of Below the Barrel

Koa and I make our way back to our shared room, the silence between us comfortable, but the adrenaline from the day still buzzing in my veins. The moment we step inside, the atmosphere shifts, like we both know exactly what’s coming next.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” I say, my voice a little lower, a little more suggestive.

Koa’s eyes flicker with amusement. “I think I’ll join you,” he replies, his lips curving into that familiar grin. We barely make it into the bathroom before his hands are on me, peeling away at my sweat and sand-stained clothes from the day.

When the hot water hits us, Koa’s lips crash against mine. The steam rises around us, his hands sliding down my body, slick with water. I moan softly into his mouth, the rush of the shower only making it feel more urgent, more necessary. We don’t have time to be slow or gentle, but that’s okay—we don’t need to be.

His hands grip my hips as I press my back against the cool tile wall, gasping when he lifts me up effortlessly. I wrap my legs around him and feel him fill me completely, losing myself in the feeling.

It’s quick, intense, our bodies moving together like we’re racing the clock. His mouth finds my neck, kissing, biting softly as I arch into him, every nerve in my body alive with need. We both know we don’t have much time, but that only makes it better, like we’re stealing these moments before we’re thrown back into the whirlwind of the tour.

We finally come together and it’s like the last of the tension from the day melts away, replaced with something deeper, more grounding.

We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, the water still pouring down over us. Then, Koa lets out a breathless chuckle, his forehead resting against mine. “Shower sex definitely beats a post-comp interview.”

I laugh, my heart still racing, and kiss him once more before we pull ourselves apart to actually start getting ready for dinner.

We meetthe rest of the surfers in the hotel lobby, waiting for the bus that’s taking us to dinner. The producers have set upthis whole event—a traditional luau to honour Polynesian history, complete with Mauka warriors. Everyone seems excited, chatting easily, but my mind keeps drifting back to Pipeline, the wave that’s been waiting for me.

Koa stands beside me, his hand firmly in mine. I can feel his thumb brush soothing circles on my skin, his way of grounding me, but my thoughts are still racing. I know he’s trying to distract me, trying to keep me in the moment, but I’m struggling to shake the heaviness that’s settled in my chest.

As we board the bus, the chatter around me blurs. My leg bounces anxiously against the floor, and I stare out the window at the fading sun, the ocean in the distance like a reminder of what’s coming. Koa leans over, his voice soft as he whispers, “You okay?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, just…thinking.”

His eyes search mine, and I can see he knows I’m not fine, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he just pulls me closer, resting his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean into him. I close my eyes for a moment, focusing on the warmth of his body against mine, his steady breathing. But even with him right here, I can’t stop the images flashing in my mind—of being swallowed by Pipeline, of making one wrong move and the ocean punishing me for it, of being dragged down below the barrel, watching the world above me fade away.

When we arrive at the luau, the night feels electric. The sound of drums fills the air, the crackle of fire from torches along the beach casting an orange glow over everything. The Mauka warriors are already starting their performance, their movements powerful, telling the story of their ancestors. Of Koa’s ancestors. It’s breathtaking, the energy palpable, and yet, I can’t shake the unease that’s settled in my stomach.

We sit down at a long wooden table, the others around us laughing and chatting. Koa stays close, his hand slipping frommy shoulder to rest on my thigh under the table, a silent way of letting me know he’s here. I glance at him, and he gives me a small, reassuring smile.

“You’re going to be fine, princess,” he says softly, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “You’ve surfed tougher waves, trust me.”

I want to believe him, but Pipeline isn’t just another wave. It’s massive. The kind of wave that can break bones—or worse. I’ve heard the stories, seen the wipeouts that end careers or take lives, and no amount of experience prepares you for something like that.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, biting my lip as I finally let the fear slip into my voice. “What if I can’t do it, Koa? What if something goes wrong?”

He tightens his grip on my leg, his thumb brushing against my skin in slow, calming strokes. “You’re one of the best surfers in the world, Maliah. You’ve earned your spot on this tour, and you can handle Pipeline. You’re stronger than you think.”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak, the fear clawing at me.

“How about we head over to Pipeline over the next week, get you used to the waves in time for the competition. Do you think that would help?” he suggests, his expression softening.

I swallow, feeling the tightness in my chest expand. I want to believe in the strength he sees in me, but the fear won’t let go. “Okay,” I say quietly, my voice trembling just a little.

He leans in close, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way. Always.”

He nudges me with his shoulder, giving me a playful smile as he looks back at the performers. “It’s beautiful, right? Just focus on this tonight, okay? We’ll worry about Pipeline tomorrow.”

I nod, trying to let myself enjoy the moment. The food is incredible, the dancers are mesmerizing, and the energy fromthe warriors feel electric. Koa’s arm wraps around my waist, his thumb tracing a slow, comforting pattern on my side. He’s doing everything he can to keep me present and I appreciate it more than he’ll ever know.

TWENTY-NINE

KOA | OAHU, HAWAII

I wake up early,the soft glow of the Hawaiian sun filtering through the curtains, breathing life back into my soul. I’ve missed it here. Maliah is still asleep beside me, curled up under the blankets, her face peaceful despite the storm I know is raging inside her. I kiss her shoulder softly before slipping out of bed and pulling on my board shorts and a T-shirt. Today’s a big day—it’s time to take her out to Pipeline.

I know she’s scared. Hell, I’d be worried if she wasn’t. Pipeline is no joke, and the closer we get to the competition, the more that fear has been eating at her. But I also know that Maliah’s stronger than she gives herself credit for. She’s faced down some of the toughest waves in the world, but this one—it’s different.

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