Gia pushed open the door to the Cat’s Pajamas at 7:45 sharp to see that her friends had already beaten her there. Wait. Most of them, anyway. Instead of Autumn behind the counter, she saw that Kate was on register as Steve prepared drinks.
“Well, this is new,” Gia said with a grin. “You taking over the business, Carpenter?”
Kate laughed. “No way. Counter help at best. Autumn’s extra uncomfortable today, so I told her I’d fill in while she took the morning to rest. I have the next two days off, so I don’t mind. And hey, I’m not as bad as I used to be.”
“Well, you look sharp back there.”
“Thanks,” Kate said, and dropped her gaze to the register. She was never one for much attention, always moving out of the spotlight, which Gia found endearing. Kate was good people, and she’d been an amazing partner for Autumn.
“I should check in on her later,” Hadley said from her chair at their table. “I could read to her like I do the kiddos at the hospital.”
“Autumn would probs love to be read to. Please promise me you’ll do that,” Isabel said, with a mischievous smile, because in truth, they knew Autumn would have little patience for inactivity and was likely doing everything in her power to claw her way back to her prized coffee roaster.
“On second thought, maybe not such a good idea.” Hadley brightened. “I can’t help but remember when my dads would read to me when I was sick. We would go through book after book. It’s where I developed an appreciation for the written word.”
Isabel regarded her. “You really did grow up in a gay fairy tale, didn’t you? Two dads with an eye for decorating, copious milkshakes, and probably a damn pet unicorn.”
Hadley sipped her mocha. “And proud of it.”
“I have to head to work early,” Isabel said, standing. “I’m taking Fat Tony to the office with me. He and Raisin have signed a temporary peace treaty and I thought what better way for them to practice their manners than in my place of employment. Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”
“Good luck with that,” Gia said. “My money’s on my man Tony.”
“I could take bets,” Hadley offered.
Gia looked at her. “Vegas theme night has changed you forever. You know that?”
“Iz, wait!” Kate said, racing over with two to-go cups. “I’m supposed to send these for you and Taylor. It’s on the list she gave me.”
“You’re the best substitute Autumn ever, and I would never just say that to you either, because those stakes are fucking high. Ms. Pac-Man tonight?”
“Done.”
“Hey!” Gia said. “I’m sitting right here.”
“You’re invited, too, Surf Queen. You know the invite is standing. All right. Me and my asshole cat are out. Peace, bitches.”
Hadley stared after Isabel. “She always has the best exits, wouldn’t you say? I need to work on mine.” She finished the last bit of her mocha, returned the cup to the counter, and regarded them. “Well, everyone here in the coffee shop, I’m off to take Rodeo Drive by storm.” With that, she flipped her blond hair and sauntered to the door. “How was that?” she asked meekly, glancing back.
Kate squinted. “That was pretty good.”
Gia nodded at Kate. “I’d give it a solid seven.”
“Seven sounds about right,” Kate said, nodding back.
“A seven?” Hadley sighed sadly. She shook her head as if she just couldn’t quite believe her failure. “I’ll work on it.”
Once they were on their own, Gia followed Kate back to the counter and kept her company while she took orders. “How’s station life?” Gia asked, in between customers. Kate’s job as a firefighter had always impressed her, as had Kate herself. To say she had a little bit of hero worship where Kate was concerned wouldn’t be inaccurate.
“Nothing to complain about. My ladder’s a good one, and there’s way more action out here than back home. That’s for sure. Handful of vehicle fires and one structure just yesterday alone.” Kate had only recently made the move from a small town in Oregon, where she’d been a lieutenant. She’d had to take a lesser role at the larger company, but it was apparently paying off. “Office building went up earlier this week, and we were able to contain the blaze and slow its progress. By nightfall, the burn was totally under control. It’s a solid group.”
“And I play in the waves all day,” Gia said, only half joking. There were times when she wished her job came with a greater good like Kate’s. Her life was fun, but that was about it. Shouldn’t there be more?
“Don’t sell yourself short. I don’t have throngs of fans fawning all over me, asking me for autographs. Girls swooning.”
“That part’s not so bad,” Gia said, feeling a hint better. She gestured to the counter Kate was wiping down. “You got this under control? I’m supposed to watch film with my coach before a press junket later today to promote the tour.”
“Watching film, how does that work? That’s film of you?”
“Unfortunately, yes. So I can see all the ways I suck and hopefully get better. Part of the job. Just the tedious part.”
“And you have a coach?”
“Part-time. Katrina McAllister, who was a former pro herself. We met through Billabong, when they used to sponsor her. I was an up-and-coming nobody on the Qualifying Tour, longing to play with the big kids and be like Katrina someday.”
Kate took a moment to wait on a customer, passing them her understated but incredibly effective grin and gaze. Gia wouldn’t know how to duplicate that kind of quiet charm if she wanted to. She was fairly sure Kate had no clue the effect she had on women, which was probably why it worked.
“Pretty awesome that she’s now your coach.”
“Sometimes I still can’t believe it.” Gia finished her drink. “I better head over to her place. You guys got this?” she asked Steve and Kate.
Steven grinned. “Yeah. We have a new employee starting in about an hour, so we’ll have extra hands.”
“Cool. Say hi to Autumn for me. I’ll check in with you guys after the junket about a little Ms. Pac-Man action.”
“Deal.”
When Gia arrived at Katrina’s house on the beach, she found her coach already watching the footage of the most recent tournament in Fiji. Katrina didn’t take her eyes from the screen when Gia entered. “Ten tournaments a year and five of them are already gone. What are you going to do about that?”
“Well, hello to you, too.”
Katrina relaxed into her leather couch and stared at Gia in that no-nonsense way she had. Her blond hair was cropped short and sun bleached. Retired or not, she still sported a surfer’s physique because she hit the waves and the gym daily. Katrina didn’t mess around. “We have a lot of work to do. Look at this.” She rewound the footage and Gia took a seat. “See the way you overcorrect on that turn? That’s what caused you to lose your balance, or that ride would have pulled in a killer score.”
Gia shook her head. “I anticipate too much.”
“Then stop.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Well, it is for your competition.” Katrina fired up the next clip, only this one was of Elle, tearing into a wave, carving the pocket like she was made to do so. Gia both cringed and applauded the finesse. “Check it. She’s not anticipating anything. She’s living that wave, and if you want to take number one, you have to learn to do the same.”
“If it were that easy, I’d be doing it already.”
“You think too much. You need to learn to feel your way through those waves.”
Gia laughed. “The only time thinking too much is a bad thing.”
“Tons of times it’s better not to think,” Katrina said, moving to the kitchen and taking out the ingredients for protein shakes for the two of them. “Dancing is one example. Sex is another. Falling in love is best served without a side of overanalyzation.”
“If you say so.”
“What? You’ve never fallen head over heels for someone?”
“Nope. I had a girlfriend in my early twenties. We lived together for four months and I started to think it was love. It wasn’t. It was more about convenience for both of us.” She pointed to the blender. “No strawberries in mine.”
Katrina nodded, and tossed the extra strawberries into her own pile. “Interesting glimpse into your sad little love life, Malone.”
“Hey!” Gia said, but was drowned out by the sound of the blender roaring to life.
Moments later, the room returned to silence. Katrina studied her. “You know? Maybe this whole in-your-head thing is symptomatic of all aspects of your life, ever thought about it?”
“Of course. I think about everything, remember?”
Katrina laughed. “My bad. Maybe if you worked on thinking a little less, feeling a little more, it would transfer to your surfing.”
Gia scrunched up her face. “Seems like a leap.”
“Well, consider that leap your homework assignment. Now c’mon. Let’s watch some film of you falling on your ass like an idiot and see if we can’t find out why.”
Gia forced a smile. “My favorite pastime.”
* * *
“Tell me what’s about to take place here,” Jordan Tuscana asked. “And remember to direct your answer to me, not the camera.”
Elle nodded. She knew the drill. Jordan had been shooting a documentary chronicling the lives of several of the female surfers on the Championship Tour for the past two years now. As one of the subjects, Elle answered questions for Jordan on occasion or allowed cameras to follow her here or there. She was actually thrilled about the project and the attention it would bring to the tour and the sport overall. Plus, Jordan was a fantastic director and made the process easy.
Elle smiled widely at Jordan as the camera rolled. “Today’s a pretty standard junket, giving members of the press the opportunity to sit with athletes from the tour and ask whatever questions they have. We do these kinds of things between tournaments, and it’s a great way to talk to a variety of media outlets all in one place. The downside? The afternoon always feels ridiculously long, and by the end of it, you’re sick of hearing your own voice.”
“Talk about what it’s like sitting alongside your competitors,” Jordan said from off camera.
Elle didn’t miss a beat. She liked this question. “I’m one of the surfers who doesn’t mind sitting next to a competitor at a press event. It gives me a chance to see them up close and personal for a change, and not just on their board. Call me calculating, but once you know more about them, it’s all the easier to take them down.” She beamed at Jordan, knowing she’d be able to use that little nugget as a lead into the footage she’d get that day.
“Perfect,” Jordan said. “We’ll be shooting B-roll of the junket throughout the afternoon, but I’ll find you if I need more.”
“I’ll be around,” Elle said. “And say hi to Molly for me. Those truffles you brought last time knocked me over. In a very good way.”
Jordan laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell her. I’m trying to get her to come out here with me next time. She needs some time off.”
“If she does, we’re going to dinner on me. I need to meet this chocolate wizard.”
“Well, now she definitely has to come. Free dinner.”
As Jordan departed, a young man, Andrew, took her place at Elle’s side. “Ms. Britton?”
“Elle, please.” She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand. “Likewise. I’m Andrew. I’ll be your escort today. I’m here if you need a break or some water. Just say the word.”
“Awesome. We’re gonna get along, Andrew. I can just feel it.”
He smiled and she knew she’d put him at ease, which was the ultimate goal. “We’re going to get you set up in the Jefferson Room. They have you answering questions with Gia Malone today.”
She laughed. Oh, of course they did. These organizers were no fools. Not only were the two of them popping up in multiple, and conflicting, headlines together, Gia was rapidly rising in the rankings, and everyone wanted a piece of the rivalry. So be it. “Sounds good.” She spotted Gia speaking with a girl who was presumably the assistant assigned to her. “Excuse me a moment, Andrew. I’ll meet you in Jefferson in five. Sound okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She made her way through the groupings of people and arrived at Gia’s elbow. “Can I steal you for a minute?” she said quietly.
Gia turned and met her eyes. “Oh. Hey. Yeah. Just…yeah.” She excused herself to the assistant and followed Elle. Once they were a safe distance away and alone, Gia paused their progress. “What’s up?”
“We’re together today.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Elle smiled. “What do you say we have some fun with these people?”
Gia looked perplexed, but really pretty at the same time. Elle took a moment to take in how long her lashes were and how perfectly they accentuated her big brown eyes. That now familiar shiver moved through her.
“And how exactly would we do that?”
“Fodder. Let’s give it to them. They’re looking for competitive banter, or flirtation, or all-out tension filling the room. If they’re gonna make money off us, the least we can do is enjoy ourselves and bolster the Trainers campaign a little.”
Gia smiled. “Could liven up a boring day.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“All right, then. Let’s do it.” A pause as a twinkle crept into Gia’s eyes. “Have any more dreams about me?”
Elle swallowed hard as she led them in the direction of the Jefferson Room. “No. Can’t say that I have. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. What an embarrassing thing to confess to someone.” She was speaking way too fast. Gia made her nervous, as did the topic. She still didn’t have her hands around it.
“You were drunk and feeling it.”
Elle paused them in the hallway and waited for a couple of other athletes to pass. “I was. I would just hate for you to get the wrong idea. I think you’re, well, a lot less awful than I did just weeks ago.”
Gia inclined her head from side to side as if weighing the statement. “I’m happy with less awful.”
“That sounds bad. Let me try again. I genuinely like you. But in terms of any kind of attraction…”
Gia scoffed dejectedly. “Fine, Elle. We’ll just be friends.”
“Ha. Okay. I see. You’re joking about it now, which is great. It should be something that we can joke about easily. I’m glad to see that. It means we’ve moved past it.” She paused, and shifted her tone to earnest, feeling the need to continue explaining herself. When would that compulsion end? “I want to make sure you’re really okay about it and that I didn’t ruin what tiny bud of mutual respect we had going.”
Gia held up a hand. “The tiny bud is intact. Honestly, it’s cool. I’m a grown-up and not weirded out.”
“Great. That’s a relief,” Elle said, not quite sure if she believed Gia. “You know what? Why don’t we get dinner sometime? In fact, we really should. It would be good for us. Do you have plans after this?”
“You’re asking me out already? That was quick.”
Elle felt the color hit her face and burn her skin at the concept of an honest-to-goodness date with Gia. “No. I just meant a friendly—to chat is all. You know. Restaurants are fun.” She’d said stupider sentences, but not many.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Gia grinned. “Yes, restaurants are fun.”
She was still teasing Elle and enjoying it. Elle kind of enjoyed it, too. It felt…risky, somehow, the playful interaction with someone she’d fantasized about unconsciously (and a little consciously, too). Especially since she never fantasized, ever. This was all so new and unexplored.
“So, dinner after?”
Gia stared at her for what felt like forever. It seemed she was weighing the offer. “Sure. We can have dinner together. At a fun restaurant.”
“Great,” Elle said, her confidence on an upswing as she rounded the corner into the Jefferson Room. Having dinner was a great idea. They’d have a chance to get to know each other better, and that just meant more time scoping out her competition. Which would only help her stay one step ahead in the long run. This was actually a really brilliant plan.
And she wasn’t terrified at all.
Nope. Not one little bit. A dinner alone with Gia, just her and Gia staring at each other across a table, was just what she needed to move beyond her current…preoccupation.
* * *
Elle looked gorgeous today. She’d done something fancy with her hair, assembled it in a complicated braid that Gia could never begin to understand. Some sort of intricate pattern. Hair had always been something she pushed out of her face, but Elle took her hairstyles very seriously and really put in the time. It had paid off.
“What do you think about that, Gia?”
She blinked. The reporter on the couch across from them had apparently asked her a question and she’d missed the whole thing. What in the world was he referencing?
Elle passed her a smile. “About my steady training in preparation for San Clemente.”
“I think training is great. It’s what has me winning so much.”
“Well, you won the last tournament,” Elle said, with a big smile. “Everyone gets lucky once in a while.”
“Until it keeps happening, negating the luck factor altogether.” She met the reporter’s eyes. “I’ll be taking San Clemente. You can write that down.”
“She might take a heat,” Elle said. “Let’s all hope she takes at least one. Can you imagine the bruised ego if she doesn’t?”
“Is that what you were feeling after the final in Fiji?” Gia asked, with a smile.
“No,” Elle said, her eyes narrowing. “I was too busy wondering why you cut in on my wave when you had plenty of your own to choose from.”
The two reporters exchanged wide-eyed looks and typed away on their laptops like busy little bees. Elle was right. It was kind of fun, playing to their audience. Not that all of it was an act. She honestly planned to take the Swatch Pro at San Clemente, and every tournament left on this year’s tour. Sparring with Elle about it had her fired up, and a little…wait. Turned on? No. That couldn’t be right. That’d never been a symptom of competition for her, so why would it be now? She glanced over at Elle, that braid, the blue eyes, and perfect face and the curves, and for the first time she acknowledged that she might want to do a little more than just compete with Elle Britton. While her first instinct was to shut that the hell down, she heard Katrina’s words in her ear, reminding her to feel her way through, rather than think. Surely she didn’t mean a scenario as crazy as this one.
“What do you think about that, Gia?” Dammit. She’d done it again.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”
“The rumors that you and Elle have been spending time together outside of the tour.”
“Well, we’re working together on a campaign. It’s inevitable.”
“And that’s about the end of it,” Elle said, with a smile.
“Speaking of the end, I think we’ve come to the end of our time,” Andrew said, stepping forward. Luckily, this was the last interview of the day, and Gia had survived. She stood, shook hands with each of the reporters, and thanked them for their time.
“Where should we go to dinner?” Elle asked Gia.
Both reporters turned back abruptly and stared back at them in surprise. She was fairly certain that Elle had done that on purpose.
“I’ll let you choose.”
Once the reporters exited the Jefferson Room, Gia addressed Elle. “Are you sure that’s wise? They’re going to keep shipping us.”
Elle passed her a sideways look. “What’s shipping?”
“Imagining that we’re a couple. Projecting that kind of relationship on us. It’s a term my friend Isabel uses when—never mind.”
Andrew stepped forward. “My sister ships everybody. The practice is rampant.”
Elle marveled. “I had no idea. Shipping, huh?”
Gia pressed on. “Isn’t your boyfriend going to be upset if these articles keep hitting the web?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Elle said, and gathered her bag.
“Okay, but you’re straight.”
Elle’s smile faltered noticeably and wrinkles appeared on her forehead. After a moment, she brightened to full Elle wattage again, leaving Gia intrigued as to what had just taken place in her head. “All press is good press, Gia. Good rule of thumb.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Let’s eat.”
The restaurant Elle selected for them was one Gia had heard of. Popular, trendy, and hard as hell to get a table. Well, unless you were Elle, apparently. The host at the front made a huge fuss when he saw her, kissing her cheek and asking about her week.
“Been a little hectic,” Elle answered. “Lots of press for the tour. How’s your mom?”
“Much better. With that hip replacement, she’s good as new.”
“Thrilled to hear it. Give her a kiss on the cheek and all my best.”
“She would love that,” he exclaimed. “You know how she adores you.”
“It’s mutual, Trevor. It’s mutual.”
Did Elle literally know everyone in California? Was that a true possibility? As they were guided to their table, right in the center of the restaurant, Gia felt like she’d been dropped in the middle of Europe. The black, white, and red interior was outfitted with a handful of small, round tables leading up to a black and red bar. Wine bottles lined the walls, and the menu contained a handful of tapas dishes Gia couldn’t begin to decipher.
“You’re a people person,” Gia said, as they settled across from each other.
“I think that’s accurate. I happen to like people a lot. Don’t you? Isn’t that what makes the world go ’round?”
“I like the people I know already.”
Elle nodded. “But you have friends. I’ve seen them.”
“True. I guess I have a small but close group. But you? You’re like the friendship ambassador.”
“Some wine?” the sommelier asked.
Gia liked wine but knew very little about it. She gestured for Elle to go right ahead.
“I think we’ll take a bottle of your Cakebread Cab. The 2015 if you have it.”
Quietly, Gia admired Elle’s confidence. Plus, she always smiled and treated people courteously. She remembered how not too long ago, she’d decided that Elle’s friendly disposition was 100 percent fake. And while she hadn’t bought into it entirely just yet, she was starting to understand that there was room for error in her initial judgment. What did Elle possibly have to gain from being nice to her assistant, Andrew, earlier? It was unlikely she’d see the guy again, but she’d gone out of her way to be warm and inclusive. Gia was willing to admit that she might have pinned a lot of resentment on Elle simply because she was the competition, and was not necessarily an awful person.
“I believe we have the 2015,” the sommelier said, with a bow, and disappeared into the nearby wine cellar.
“This can’t be good for your training,” Gia remarked with a smile.
Elle placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, you’re so sweet to look out for me.”
“That’s me,” Gia said, with a laugh. “The sweetest.”
They stared at each other as the melody from the nearby Spanish guitar floated past. “So,” Elle said.
“So.” Another pause. “What made you ask me to dinner?” Gia asked.
“Honestly? It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
Gia sat back in her chair. “One you’re regretting now?”
Elle shook her head, and the music played on. “I wanted to get to know you better, and now I can.”
“Scoping out the competition. Nothing wrong with that.”
They waited while the sommelier poured the wine. Elle took a sip and basked. “It’s really good.”
Gia liked the way she savored the taste, the way she pressed her lips together lightly at first and then more firmly. She had good lips. Gia tended to stare at them a lot.
“Tell me, are you from California?” Elle asked.
“No. I moved here when I was nineteen with hopes to make it onto the Qualifying Tour.”
Elle seemed puzzled. “Okay, then where did you learn to surf if not here?”
“Hawaii. My mother was a captain in the Air Force and we were stationed at a base there. I had this friend who would come to the islands to visit her family each summer. She talked this huge game about wanting to learn to surf.”
“An influencer.”
“Big-time. I looked up to her in every way.”
“What was her name?”
“Hunter, which I thought was so much cooler than a stupid name like Gia. She was smooth, and put together, and knew she was gay way the hell before I did. Everyone wanted to be around her. Meanwhile, I was just trying to figure out how to string two sentences together around girls I thought were pretty.” She laughed. “Still am.”
“So, the girl with all the cool moves taught you to surf?”
“Hardly. She was awful at it. But then I gave it a shot, and it’s like the world came into color.” She shook her head at the still-vivid memory. “When I finally managed to stand up on that board for the first time, it’s like I’d found my purpose. Sounds stupid, hearing it out loud.”
Elle shook her head, and her eyes held understanding. “It’s the furthest thing from stupid I’ve ever heard. Tell me more.”
“I practiced. Mornings before school. Afternoons following school. All summer long. Hunter gave it up after that first summer. Spent her time chatting up girls at the mall while I lived in the ocean with my board.”
“And what happened to Hunter? The suspense is killing me.”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. We lost touch when my mom was transferred back to the mainland. I’m confident she’s still landing more girls than I ever could.”
Elle set down her wine. “Oh, I bet you do okay.”
“Apparently the dream version of me does.” They looked at each other and laughed.
Elle glanced away, a blush firmly in place. “As I may have mentioned before, it was the article about us that caused the whole thing. The one that was shipping us.” Elle smiled at her own use of the term. “I read it before going to sleep that night.”
“Aha. So you find tabloid gossip…inspiring.” Gia tilted her head and caught Elle’s gaze. “I’m sorry if the dream made you feel awkward or upset you.”
“It didn’t upset me,” Elle said. “Well, it did for a while.” A pause. “And then it didn’t.”
They stared at each other. Gia wondered where all the sound in the room had gone. Her head felt light, like it might float away at any moment. She blinked and reached for her glass of wine. “Good. That’s good, then.”
Their waiter returned and they ordered food, a combo of different Spanish tapas to sample. Again, she let Elle, who seemed more adept at the menu options, do the choosing. They each went for a second glass of wine as they chatted. Slowly, and with the help of time and alcohol, the mood shifted as they each relaxed.
“What about you?” Gia asked. “When did you first get on a board?”
“Oh. Well, I was a California kid through and through. My parents were beach people, so my brothers and I were in the water from the beginning. Got my first surfboard at seven. Won my first competition at nine.”
“You were a surf prodigy. I do remember hearing that part of the story.”
Elle had the decency to demur. “I practiced a lot. Prodigy is a strong word.”
“I don’t think it is, in your case. Not that it’s going to help you in San Clemente.”
“You’re ruthless, you know that? And you’re not going to win.”
“I’m driven. And I am, too.”
Elle raised her glass and touched Gia’s. “To taking each other down. That should be the story of our joint memoir.”
“Wow. First, you’re dreaming about me, then you’re asking me out to dinner, and now we have a joint memoir? You move fast.” She watched the recurring pink hit the tops of Elle’s cheeks and blossom, enjoying that she inspired it and wanting to inspire more, while at a loss at just how to navigate this new circumstance. Get out of your own head. Don’t overthink. She exhaled. She was trying.
“I think about you differently since the dream. Is that weird?” Maybe Elle was really feeling the wine, but that comment sent a sweltering wave dissolving over Gia. She was glad they’d taken an Uber to the restaurant. They should definitely take separate ones home.
“Do you have a crush on me, Elle?” She said it as a joke, a deflection, because that was easier, but she honestly had a stake in the answer.
To Gia’s surprise, the self-assured smile slid right off Elle’s lips. “I mean, I don’t think so.” A pause as her gaze hit the tablecloth. “I don’t know. What if I did?”
Gia laughed it off, and took another sip of her wine. Elle laughed, too, and they both seemed to do their damnedest to downplay the exchange as nothing but lighthearted banter. But there was a weighted charge between them now that was new and as intoxicating as the wine. The comment felt so far out of left field that Gia didn’t know which end was up. She was now having impure thoughts about Elle Britton, who in turn kept dropping hints of a possible attraction of her own, all because of a random sex dream? How in the world did they get here? Gia wasn’t sure, but she gestured for the check and distantly blamed Isabel. She needed some air, some space, and maybe a therapy session with Hadley, because this whole thing felt catastrophic and thrilling. She couldn’t decide which. It was both. It was everything. And the room had way too little air.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Gia said, once the waiter returned with her credit card. “I should probably get home. I’m meeting Katrina early tomorrow for a workout.”
“You’re lucky you scored her.”
Gia nodded. “You don’t have to tell me. She knows our world and what it takes to survive the big waves.”
“My guy, Bruce, is great, but I grew up hero-worshipping Katrina. I had her poster in my room.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Oh yeah? Did you demand your mother find you those exact same board shorts? The ones with the green and the—”
“Yellow vertical stripes. I hounded her daily. I also taped her finals heats with an actual VCR.”
Elle pointed at her. “I still have my tapes.”
“Shut up. Truly?”
“I do. I couldn’t throw them away if I wanted to. Did you try and spike your hair like hers?”
“I tried, and failed miserably.”
“Same.”
They stood at the entrance of the restaurant, waiting for rides and grinning at the unexpected common ground. It’d been a while since Gia had met someone who understood how great Katrina was. Is. “You’re a cooler girl than I thought, Elle.” She held up a hand. “And don’t let that go too far to your head. I might deny saying so tomorrow.”
“Or maybe you won’t.”
A moment passed between them, and Gia softened. “Or maybe I won’t.”
Elle laughed and turned to face the street, the wind lifting the loose strands of blond around her face that had somehow escaped the braid. Gia felt like she’d seen behind the curtain tonight, to a version of Elle she hadn’t realized existed. But then again, maybe she hadn’t wanted to know. Until now.
Elle’s car arrived first, and she turned to Gia. “Thank you for tonight. I had a great time getting to know more about the infamous Gia Malone.”
“Next time, I choose the place.”
Elle took a step in, a close one, and Gia felt it all over. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Yeah. Why not?” Gia asked.
“You’re asking me?” She shook her head, and her tongue briefly wet her bottom lip.
Gia’s stomach took a wonderful dip.
“I see no reason at all.”
Elle slipped into the back seat and Gia stared through the window at her silhouette. The car pulled slowly from the curb and disappeared into the night, right along with everything Gia thought she knew about the world. What was she supposed to do with that glimpse of flirtation and this newfound attraction to someone she didn’t even like a month ago? Gia raised her hand to her forehead. She needed an Advil and a sounding board, because her head was pounding with problems.