Page 28 of The Soulmate Theory

“It’s pretty,” I said softly.

“That’s why I didn’t want you to miss it,” he whispered as if speaking too loudly would startle the slow waking of the sun.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever woken up to watch the sunrise at the beach. I’ve only stayed out to watch the sunset,” I admitted.

“I guess it depends on where you live in the world. In Hawaii, we had the option to see the sun rise and set against the ocean. Sometimes I’d get to see both on the same day. I think the sunrise was always my favorite, though.”

I sighed deeply, sinking down into the sand with my back against the driftwood. We sat for a while, watching the day come alive in silence. After the world no longer shimmered in a gold hue, he let out a breath and stood up.

“Alright, let’s get out there.” He pulled his board from the sand. “C’mon, kook.” He stretched his neck towards the water as he smiled down at me.

“Absolutely fucking not,” I stated, attempting, and failing, to stifle my laughter.

“Have you ever been on a surfboard, Pep?” I shook my head in response. His lips clustered in the corner of his mouth. “Alright. Well, there is nobody out here to see you make a fool of yourself but me.”

“Exactly,” I interjected. He held up his finger.

“Which means, it should be no different than anything else I’ve seen over the last twenty-four hours.” He flashed methatgrin. I clicked my tongue and glared at him. “Everyone should ride a wave at least once. Luckily for you, I’m an expert.”

“Who says you’re an expert?”

He stuck out his hip and scoffed, pointing inward at himself and wiggling his fingers up and down. “I’m Hawaiian?” he said, as if that automatically made him an authority on surfing. He stepped toward me and extended his hand.

With a defeated sigh, I took it.

“First, you’re going to need boots and gloves. The water is cold as shit.” From a bag I hadn’t realized he was holding, he pulled out a pair of gloves and something that looked like socks. Both were the same fabric as the rest of my wetsuit. He put a set of his own on too.

“And put sunscreen on your face. It’s in the bag.”

I flicked a brow. “Carter, it’s six-thirty in the morning. And it’s March. In Oregon.”

“I don’t argue about SPF. Put. It. On.”

I blew out a breath but obeyed.

We waded knee high into the water, and despite the fact that I was horridly aware of how cold I should feel, I wasn’t cold at all. The morning breeze was soft and light. Inside the cove, the waves just barely rose to lap against our legs. Carter stepped in front of me and held the board steady as he beckoned me to climb onto it. I gave him an unsure look, but he returned it with an encouraging nod that was full of confidence. I braced both hands onto the top of the board and lifted my leg to swing it over. A wave came crashing just as I raised my leg, knocking me off my steady foot.

Absolutely sure that I would fall beneath it, I braced myself for the bitterly cold water to envelop my face. A strong pressure at my chest held me in place. “I’ve got you,” he said against my ear. He gently pushed me back up until both my feet were on the sand. “Wait,” he advised as he stared at the horizon. A few seconds passed before another wave crested over us. “Okay, go.” I planted both arms on the board and hoisted my leg over, pulling myself up until I was straddling it.

The board tipped back slightly as another wave crashed over us. “Alright, lean to your left.” I did as he said. From my right side, he swung himself over the board. Much swifter, more graceful, than I had. He brought both legs up behind him until he was sitting on his knees. “Put your feet out in front of you and lean back against my chest.”

I caught my breath, taking a moment to prepare myself for the way it would feel to have my head against his broad, hard chest. Too afraid to fall, and too thrilled to change my mind, I leaned back. I could somehow feel the warmth of his body through both of our suits. He leaned forward, propping me into a sitting position. He began to paddle. I could feel the way the muscles in his torso, his arms, and his chest all moved in sync with each other. His breathing was labored as he panted against my ear. The air was warm against my neck.

We moved over the small waves as they rocked the board underneath us. Our bodies pressed together at the center of it, a balancing act. I held him steady, and he held me straight. It was exhilarating– moving against the wind and waves. At odds with the force of nature, moving in the opposite direction of where it was telling us to go. I couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to move with the waves. To stand beneath them.

Carter paddled out just far enough that we were beyond the break, but not too far that the water was rough. He explained that the cove we sat inside blocked the wind, making the water calm enough to just wade above. Once he’d stopped paddling, the board stilled. Small ripples moved beneath us, but nothing in comparison to those that crashed against the shore.

I was too afraid to move, but I felt him straighten out and let both his legs dangle in the water. I stayed pressed against his chest, afraid that if I tried to turn around, I’d fall off. I could not believe I’d gotten onto a surfboard. I shook my head and let out a breathy laugh.

“What?” I couldn’t see his face with my eyes closed, but I could feel him smiling.

“I just can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“It’s amazing though, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I breathed, “but I can’t seem to open my eyes.”

“If you feel safest in this position, then you don’t have to move. But you should open your eyes, Pep. Look at the sky,” he whispered against my ear. I could feel his chest vibrate against my back as he spoke.

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