❝You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to face them.❞
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After wiping out on the waves and spending the last six months in a physical therapy centre recovering, pro-surfer Thalia Monroe, heads to the small coastal town of Sandy...
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THE OTHER SIDE of the bed is empty.
Running my hand over the empty covers, not feeling Thalia's body on the other side, I pry my eyes open before wincing as the sunlight pours through the window and blinds me. Closing them once more, I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers before trying to adjust my eyes to the brightness, since we didn't close the curtains last night.
Groaning as I lift my head to look around the room, I see our clothes scattered all over the floor and the covers only cover my lower half. Leaning my head back to rest against the pillow, giving myself a moment to wake up, I run my hand down my face before sitting up. Clearly, she hasn't gone far with her clothes and underwear still over my floor.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed before standing and stretching. Grabbing a pair of boxers, not wanting to potentially scare any locals with the number of open windows there are, I put them on before heading out into the living area.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, but Thalia is still nowhere to be seen. The balcony doors are open, with a breeze flowing through them and I scratch the back of my head before walking over to them seeing Thalia leaned against the railing wearing my shirt, with her hair tumbling down the back of her and a cup of coffee in her hand.
A content smile crosses my lips as I lean against the doors, crossing my arms as I stand there for a moment.
"Do I need to take it as a bad sign that you weren't still in bed with me when I woke up?" I question with a smirk tilting at my lips. She turns around with her coffee placed at her lips as she takes a sip before she laughs and shakes her head at me.
"I'm still here, aren't I?" she rebuts, raising her eyebrow.
"True. If you had left completely clearly, I would have needed to up my game," I tell her. My eyes drop to the front of the shirt, and I tap my chin curiously. "Nice shirt. It looks familiar, but I just can't place it."
"You can have it back, but I don't think your neighbors would appreciate the show." She shrugs before turning back around to face the ocean.
I shake my head before walking closer and placing my hands on her hips.
"I wouldn't be opposed," I mumble, kissing behind her ear and she elbows me in the stomach lightly. "How's the surf looking?"
"Stupidly good," she mumbles, tapping her finger against the coffee mug, and I chuckle. "That's the hardest part, you know, when the swell is good and I can't do a damn thing."
"You can watch me surf it if it helps?" I say, and she turns her head to glare at me. "Or not."
"I'd pray the wave swallows you whole," she tells me, and I gasp.
"How rude, and after I gave you the best sex of your life," I say and she throws her head back, laughing, so her head is on my chest. "Do I need to be offended by that laugh?"
