“How were the waves today, handsome?” The pretty brunette bartender leans forward, giving me a glimpse of what’s beneath her shirt. More than a glimpse, actually. It doesn’t really qualify as a shirt, either.

I smile, backing away after picking up the glass she set in front of me. I hope she gets the message that I’m not interested today any more than I was a week ago when I’d arrived, and she’d all but jumped me on the way back to my villa then. “Perfect, as usual. It’s going to be hard to leave this place.”

“Only because of the waves?” The bartender, Mina, twists her full lips into a pout.

I force a chuckle. I’m probably in the minority here, but I’m not trying to get laid. Not my usual MO, but I didn’t come all the way here to fuck my way through the week. I needed to get the hell away from my life for a little while. Being here won’t change anything, and it sure as shit won’t eliminate the guilt that’s plagued me every day since the accident. But I needed an escape, a place to clear my head, and to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life now. Sure, I could have screwed Mina six ways to Sunday…she’d made it clear that was her objective…but I didn’t need to travel halfway around the world for pussy. I have my pick of it whenever, wherever, and however I want it; just one of the many perks of being a World Surf League champion.

Yeah, my life was pretty fucking incredible until a few months ago.

“Nah, I’m gonna miss the pig roasts, too. Don’t see much of that back home.” I hold up the glass of scotch, ignoring the innuendo. Ain’t happening. Not tonight. Not ever. “Thanks, Mina.”

I see the look of disappointment flash across her face, but I’m sure someone else will turn up and catch her eye. Another thing that doesn’t really entice me. Mina can probably park cars in her pussy. I’d rather not stick my dick in that Petri dish of STDs.

The bar is set inside of a teak wood hut right on the beach. I sink into a wicker chair facing the glow of the horizon. The ocean breeze is intoxicating; the scent of the sea air so much sweeter than it is in California. I can actually breathe here. The air doesn’t choke me like it does at home. I know it’s because of the choice I made, the one that has plagued me for months, the one that I came here to escape.

I swirl the scotch around my glass and take a long gulp. Everyone tells me not to blame myself, but I was the one person who could have changed the outcome of that fateful day. It’s a fucking jagged pill to swallow, which is why I needed to get away from there so badly. Everything reminds me of him – Vroman’s bookstore, where he’d spend hours upon hours devouring the latest and greatest sci-fi thrillers while slugging back that disgusting sludge the café tried to pass off as espresso; Rick’s Coffee Shop, that dive we’d go to every Sunday morning for breakfast before hitting the beach; the surfboard standing against my bedroom wall…

I let out a deep breath and stare at the gently rolling waves stretching as wide as my eyes can see. They weren’t so calm the day Brendan died. They were rough enough to claim the life of someone whose second home was the ocean. He was better on his board than me. So much better, so much stronger. But he had issues…demons that refused to vacate his mind. They poisoned him, tortured his soul, and made him reckless. We all tried to help him, and for a while, it worked - the medication, the therapy - but one day, he just slipped out of our grasp. It happened right after I’d signed the biggest endorsement deal of my career. Life was fucking perfect. Until it wasn’t. I ignored Brendan’s cries for help. I was too consumed with myself and the opportunities that came pouring in after I’d won that surfing championship. When he’d stormed off that morning, something felt wrong…off. But I let it go…let him go.

It’s been six long months since the accident. The guilt crippled me for too damn long, and it’s time to get back to living. Resurrecting my career is next on the list.

A strong breeze carries away my cocktail napkin and I twist to grab it before it blows any farther. That’s when I see her. I swallow hard as she walks toward me. Her thick, reddish-brown hair cascades over one bronze shoulder, her sinful body poured into a long, flowing floral dress. Her movements are graceful and so fucking seductive at the same time. I’d had an eye on her all week. She was damn hard to ignore, with those luscious tits and bitable ass. When she showed up alone on the beach today, I figured I’d take a shot. But once word got out that I was staying at the resort, guests came out of the woodwork to watch me on my board. Some even asked for surfing lessons. Most of the women wanted more than that, but none of them made my dick hard. Not like her.

The corners of her lips curl into a slow smile when she passes my table. Those eyes flash like greenish-golden flames that singe every square inch of my body. Christ, I want to let that fire rage through me.

I watch as she gracefully sinks into a nearby wicker chair overlooking the sand, her long hair fanning out around her. My cock twitches as images of her in that skimpy metallic bikini flash through my lust-clouded mind. I groan inwardly, my fingers aching to grasp the perfectly rounded globes of her ass, the diversion I so desperately need.

I came here to escape, not to get sucked into this woman’s aura, but somehow, that’s exactly where I’ve ended up. I crane my head around, looking for her posse, but it looks like she might actually be flying solo again.

Tonight. Last night. Last chance.

I’m not the guy who sweats over talking to women. I’m more the guy who needs to beat them off with a stick. Well, it’s usually my stick, and they never leave willingly.

But this woman is different. She carries herself with a confidence that’s sexy as fuck, and those eyes…I could easily get lost in them with no hope of ever finding my way out. The way she flips her glossy hair over her shoulder, the slope of her neck, those tight legs… I’ve been dreaming about having her body pinned under me for the better part of this trip. I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to her, why she’s unknowingly cast some sick spell over me, when I’m the guy who can have any woman drop her panties in exchange for a sliver of my attention.

These are the kind of crazy thoughts that should send up the red flags. Since when do I even pay attention to shit like eye color? And watching her all week like some lunatic stalker? Who the hell am I? It’s got to be this goddamn heat making me act this way. That, or a week without sex is dangling me over the brink of sanity.

Something about her is so familiar, yet untouchable. A challenge. I need to meet her. Actually, I need way fucking more than that, but you’ve got to start somewhere.

I grip my glass, admiring her profile out of the corner of my eye. Her jaw twitches, her gaze focused on the glittery waves crashing onto the shore. She is almost trance-like, not blinking, perfectly still, barely breathing.

A shattered glass followed by shrill laughter pierces the peaceful silence in the hut. The sound seems to startle her, and her head twists in the direction of the bar, until our gazes connect. It only lasts a second or so, but the thrum in my chest jolts me like I’ve just stuck a wet finger into an electric socket.

Yeah, I’m severely fucked right now. The spell is cast, and I hope it never breaks.

I stand, willing my legs to cooperate, and close the space between us. Her gaze is unwavering. It never leaves my face as I inch toward her, mesmerized by her expressive eyes, glowing skin, and soft features. A classic beauty. I have no idea if she’s alone here, if she’s married or has a boyfriend. I don’t give a flying fuck. Her pull on me is almost magnetic. She’s sucks me in like she’s a funnel cloud and I’m just in the wrong place at the right time.

Crazy. I am absolutely fucking bat-shit crazy. Obsessing about a woman I don’t even know, fantasizing about fucking her senseless in the sand, unable to sleep because I can’t stop wondering who she is and why she’s here. Jesus Christ, I’m not that guy!

At least, I haven’t been for the past twenty-six years of my life.

Her smile widens as I approach. “So, you’re the famous surfer everyone’s been talking about. I saw you on the beach earlier. You were pretty incredible on that board. I can barely stand on mine.”

I grin and stick my hand out. “Evan Montrose, at your service. I’m always happy to give private lessons.”

She reaches out and squeezes, sending a pang of electricity straight to my groin. Firm grip, skin so soft and smooth. Christ, I’d like to feel those hands wrapped around my cock right now—

“Lila Haywood. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She cocks an eyebrow. “So, about those lessons…?”

“The hotel rents me out during the day, but my nights are usually free.”

A giggle escapes her lips. “Usually? That’s surprising.”

“I like to keep my options open.”

She nods. “I think my window is about to close. I’m leaving tomorrow, so if I haven’t gotten the hang of it by now, I think I’m going to have to stick to my day job.”

“You don’t seem like the type of woman to walk away from a challenge.”

Her eyes twinkle. “Last time I checked, I was still sitting here.”

“So does that mean I have a shot to get you on that board?” Or anywhere else, for that matter?

“Is that why you came over here? To prove that you can teach the unteachable?”

“I don’t like to fail.” The words hang in the air between us, the double meaning obvious. I pause, a slow smile curling my lips. “And, for the record, nobody is unteachable. You can learn to do anything. You just have to want it badly enough.” That’s why I’m standing here right now. I see something - or rather, someone - I want. And I never walk away from a challenge.

Her eyes cloud over. “I know,” she murmurs. Her expression is shadowed by something…sadness, maybe. But as quickly as it comes, it’s gone, replaced by her bright and teasing smile. “You certainly sell yourself well. I think I’d be foolish not to take you out for a spin.”

She may not have intended her tone to be as seductive as it was, but her words are full of promise, and that promise makes my cock twitch. Oh, fuck yeah! I’ll give you the ride of a lifetime. “Trust me, I never disappoint.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.” She looks down at her sundress. “Do I need a wetsuit? Or is my bikini okay?”

My cock twitches for the second time. Stripping her out of that silky material would have been preferable if she were going to be sprawled out on my bed, naked and begging for me to plunge into her pussy. I grit my teeth, trying to block out the X-rated images from impairing my already lust-filled mind. “You’ll be fine without the wetsuit.”

She drums her fingertips on the table. Her mouth never moves, but I can see streams of thoughts racing through her mind. Some hesitation, a little bit of fear, and a lot of curiosity. My throat tightens. I can’t let her walk away, not when I’ve come this close. I sound like some sick, pathetic fuck. I know. But unlike that ocean out there, I’ve never navigated waters like these; ones where I could easily drown without a care or a second thought.

And that’s exactly what I want. What I need. What I’ve been closed off to for so long.

Last chance…last chance…

* * *

Is it so horrible to want to feel normal, even for a few hours?

I know that sounds bad. People would give their right arms to live my life, to deal with my so-called first world problems. And I love it, I really do. I’m incredibly lucky, in more ways than I can count.

My eyes lock on Evan’s ice blue ones. He has no idea who I am, and I can’t lie, it excites me. I love that in my otherwise chaotic world, I can cling to a sliver of anonymity. I can live like I want, without anyone watching, talking, stalking, photographing, gossiping…it’s refreshing. And freeing.

I need this. It’s been a long few months, and even with work, photo shoots, interviews, and award shows occupying so much of my time, it’s a lonely life when you don’t feel like you can trust anyone or believe that they may be interested in you for who you are, not for what they can get from you.

After Luke, I felt like I’d never get back to anything remotely resembling normal again. I’d been hiding for too long, sacrificing my own happiness, paranoid that he’d eventually find his way back to me and finish what he’d started.

But I’m tired of living in fear, in a world of what-ifs. And after a week of being flanked on all sides, I’m ready for a little taste of freedom. Especially one who comes wrapped up in a delicious package of rippled bronze muscles and eyes soulful enough to melt my insides. Yes, he’s exactly what I’ve been craving. He may also be the reason why I sent my team to the next venue a day early.

Fuck it all. I just want one night to remember what it feels like to be desired, to laugh without a care in the world, and to be myself without concern for who may be watching.

Evan’s broad shoulders are covered by a t-shirt that stretches tightly across his chest, but I can still imagine what lies beneath the fabric. I grasp his outstretched hand and allow him to pull me out of my chair. Goose bumps shoot up my arms and down my legs in response to his touch, and I can only imagine how my body would react to those hands dancing across my skin.

I hope I don’t have to wait too long to find out.

God, I’m so sexually repressed.

He stands aside so I can step onto the path leading to the beach, his hand on the small of my back. The heat generated by his fingertips alone is enough to burn a hole through the fabric. Jesus, I’m in trouble if I can’t even hold it together enough to make it to the beach before I melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. I set my foot down on the tiled path, my head still a little woozy from the alcohol, and my foot slips out from under me. I let out a yelp, my body lurching forward, bracing for impact on the hard terra cotta. Evan’s strong arms snake around my waist before I can face-plant on the ground. He manages to free my very insensible shoe from the groove and dangles it in front of me. “You might want to trade these in for flip flops. Just saying.”

I snicker and snatch the shoe away from him. “Thanks. I’ll take it under consideration.”

We walk in silence toward the beach, and I feel instantly at ease, like this is exactly where I should be right now. I stretch my arms overhead and take a deep breath, letting the salty sea air fill my lungs. “It’s so beautiful here. I wish I could stay forever.”

“I love the beach, too.” Evan’s deep, gravelly voice rumbles through me as his lips brush against my hair. He’s standing so close, his faraway gaze fixed on the rolling waves. “It was always the one place I could go to clear my head. A few hours on those waves, and I’d be ready to conquer the world. Things always made sense when I was on my board.”

I nod, watching his jaw clench. “Past tense?”

“Things changed a few months ago. There was an accident…”

“What happened?” I bite my lip, not sure if I should even ask. But he looks so lost right now. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me. We can just drop it.”

He turns to look at me, and I recoil at the anguish in his eyes. It hurts my heart to even look at him, which shocks the hell out of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten close enough to people to find out more than their name and which of my movies is their favorite.

“It’s okay.” Evan sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. My fingers twitch to touch it, to brush it away from his eyes, to see if it’s as soft and smooth as it looks. “My brother was out surfing one morning. He’d been troubled for a long time, suffering from depression. He seemed to be getting better, but one day, he just snapped. We got into an argument, and he took off for the beach.” His shoulders slump. “The waves were really choppy because of a storm. I went after him, but…” Evan shakes his head, his voice trailing off along with the memory. “That was six months ago.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s such a terrible tragedy.” I look down at the sand and draw a heart with my big toe. “I’ve been through it myself. My parents died in a car accident years ago. It still hurts like hell, and I never stop blaming myself for their death. They’d been rushing home to bring me to some stupid audition I just had to go on. It’s been me and my sister ever since.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you both.” His hand brushes against my arm, and goose bumps immediately pebble my bare skin. Weird. Kindred spirits with matching emotional baggage seek therapy in Hawaii. Talk about fodder for movie buffs.

“Thanks, but I’m okay now. I still miss them every day, but it’s gotten easier. I had a really tough time when it first happened. I got messed up with drugs and alcohol, and I made a lot of bad choices.” I gaze out at the horizon that resembles an abstract painting of pink, orange, and purple streaks. I feel the familiar pang in my chest when I recall those days when I didn’t think I’d ever be able to recover from the loss. Everything I’d accomplished…they never got a chance to see any of it. They’d been my biggest fans, and I never got to thank them for always supporting me and my decision to become an actress. I almost lost it all when they died. If it hadn’t been for Jules kicking me in the ass, I’d probably be a used up, drugged out hooker on Hollywood Boulevard. Or worse. “My sister is the one who helped me get my head screwed on straight after everything happened.” A small smile lifts my lips. “I’d have never made it through without her. She’s the strongest person I know. The best person I know.”

I turn my head, my breath catching as the glow of the horizon hits Evan’s face. His light eyes glitter, never moving from mine. I can’t breathe, my throat is so tight. It’s almost as if we’re both caught under the same spell, neither one of us able to break it, neither one willing to even try.

Time stands still. I have no idea if minutes or hours pass. He clears his throat, his lips parting slightly. My body wills him to dip his head lower, so I can taste his lips on mine. He rubs the back of his neck and looks behind me at the surf boards piled next to one of the huts. “We, uh, should probably grab a couple of boards before it gets too dark.”

My stomach drops. “Yeah, good idea.” The pull is almost too much for me to process. I’ve never been so captivated by a man before, especially one who I don’t know from my mailman. Although, I’m pretty sure if my mailman looked like Evan, I’d have met him a long time ago.

He backs away, but I can still see the wistful look in his eye. My heart thrums under his penetrating stare. Butterflies in my belly awaken and swarm as the dimple in his left cheek deepens. It’s been so long, I didn’t think they’d even remember how to flutter their wings. Good God, talk about a panty-dropping smile. Actually, scratch that. Evan’s smile alone could melt them off my body. Maybe later. A girl can hope.

I follow him over to the pile of boards. I’d much rather have him screw me on top of one of them instead of dealing with the embarrassment of a certain wipeout. I don’t know why I’m torturing myself like this…again. I’m pretty sure my body just isn’t made for surfing, a fact that had been proven again and again throughout the week.

Evan grabs two boards and drags them down to the shore. He pulls off his shirt and I bite down on my lower lip. Holy fuck. How was it possible that his body was even more perfect than what I’d memorized earlier on the beach? When is perfect ever an understatement? If I weren’t standing in front of him, I’d swear those abs were airbrushed on his tanned skin. His inked biceps flex as he pulls the boards behind him, and holy crap, I just want to lick every last line and swirl.

I take a few steps toward him, digging my toes into the cool, velvety sand. I reach down and pull the hem of my sundress over my head. It’s a slow, seductive movement that isn’t lost on Evan. The wistful look has gone full-fledged carnal as he waits for me to join him on the shore. I toss the dress onto the sand next to my discarded sandals and add a little swing to my hips, slinking toward him with a slow and sexy gait that makes his jaw twitch. Oh, yes.

Maybe I should have been a little more careful about taking surfing lessons from some strange guy on a desolate beach, but something about Evan settles me. I saw him on the beach today. I mean, he’s impossible to miss, with the physique of a Greek god, but it was more than just his looks that lassoed me so tightly. The man oozes charm and charisma. People are naturally drawn to him. Hell, I’d experienced it first hand, watching…okay…ogling from a distance. Surfer wannabes buzzed around him all afternoon on the beach, asking for tips, getting his autograph, and posing for pictures. If he were looking for peace and quiet, he’d definitely come to the wrong place. But it never stopped him from flashing that magical smile and making anyone approaching him feel at ease. He was a natural – gorgeous, engaging, talented, and sexy as fuck.

So I decided to gamble. I’ve been wrong about men before, blind to their motives, but this feels different. Not that I’d let on to Evan, but I already knew about the struggles he faced after his brother’s death, courtesy of Google. Once I’d spotted him on the beach, I immediately consulted with my search engine of choice. I found out that he’d all but hung up his board until he founded a youth surfing organization, called SurfsUp, for troubled teens in honor of his brother. Evan’s not only a surfing champion, but a huge philanthropist to boot. Exactly the kind of guy I need right now.

I yelp when my feet hit the water. I grit my teeth as I wade farther in to meet him and the board. “C-cold!”

He laughs, the sound reverberating through me. The low rumble ripples through my body like a slow crashing wave. How appropriate. “Maybe we should rethink that wetsuit.”

I arch my back and inch closer, partly because I need to feel the warmth of his body against my frigid one, and partly because I’m just horny as hell. “You’re sure about that?”

His smile fades and his voice drops. “I much prefer this view, but I want you to be comfortable.”

I can think of a thousand things he can do to make me comfortable. My lips curl into a grin. “So chivalrous of you.”

“I try.” He nods his head toward the board. “Hop on.”

Dammit. Was it so unrealistic of me to expect him to just throw me onto the board and devour me right here in the water? I fling a leg over the side and straddle it, my teeth chattering. I hug my arms around my chest and push out a deep breath. Okay, maybe night surfing wasn’t my greatest ever idea, but it’s too late to run back to shore and wrap myself in my dress. I’d much rather be wrapped in something else, something broad and muscular, something glistening with ocean water. I’d love to lick those salty drops away, one by one.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

I press my lips together, praying they aren’t blue. “Yes. I’m more than okay.” This is living, right? I’m getting exactly what I’d wanted. And then that nagging voice is back to torment me. Be careful what you wish for, Tatum.

“Stretch yourself out on the board. I’ll hold onto it so you can practice jumping to a crouching position.”

“Seriously? Isn’t that a little advanced? Shouldn’t we start with something simpler?”

He grins and that dimple winks at me, almost erasing my anxiety about this little surfing lesson. Almost.

“Just relax. You’re going to do just fine. I’d have never suggested it if I thought you’d get hurt. Besides, I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His light eyes darken in the dusky glow of the sky, a serious expression on his face.

His words have an instant calming effect. Besides, if I do fall, what better place to land than in Evan’s arms? I follow his instructions and position myself, clutching the sides of the board.

“Great.” His fingers brush against mine, and the electricity sizzles my clammy skin, heating me from the outside in. “Now, jump!”

I tighten my core and release the board, doing a clumsy kind of burpee to land on my feet. My arms stretch out, giving me balance as the board wobbles slightly in the now choppy water. But I’m up. I’ll be damned. I did it.

I peek at Evan and feel my skin warm in the glow of his megawatt smile. “Was that good?”

“It was fantastic. You’ve got great balance. Let’s try it again.”

Again turned into about ten more times, each leap better than the last under his instruction. Who knew I’d just been missing the right teacher? I thought I was doomed to be a boogie boarder for the rest of my life.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” He cocks an eyebrow in mock suspicion, but the twinkle in his eyes gives everything away.

“Well, I’ve watched a lot of other people do it.” I giggle. “So, what’s your secret? How’d you get to become such a great teacher?”

He looks down, trailing his fingers over the water gathered at his waist. “Just a desire to help others, I guess. I do a lot of teaching in my spare time….troubled kids that need to stay off the streets. It keeps them out of harm’s way, gives them something to look forward to. I’m always determined to get them standing on their boards by the end of each session.”

“It’s really such a wonderful way to give back, Evan. You must have helped so many kids.”

“Most of them.” He looks up with a sad smile. “But you can’t save everyone.”

“Not unless they want to be saved,” I muse, tracing a finger on the top of the board.

“Exactly.” The teasing glimmer in his eyes is now masked by pain and defeat. His shoulders square and his spine stiffens. I want so badly to rub my hand down his back. How did we even get here? Spilling emotions after less than an hour of meeting? What happened to the sexy banter? The drunken innuendoes? Since when do I crave depth?

And why does it make me want him that much more?

He lowers his gaze, a small smile lifting his lips. “What’s your story? Why’d you run?”

My mouth falls open. Jesus, am I that transparent? “What makes you think I ran from something? Maybe I just needed a break.” Yep, a break from being me.

“You’re alone in some remote resort in Hawaii, pretty far away from civilization, suffering with shitty cellular service. They don’t even have satellite television here. This isn’t the place you come for a luxury vacation with all the frills. This is the place to hide, not to be noticed.” He smirks. “Not that you could be invisible anywhere in the world, but you get what I mean.”

I nod, tracing my finger over the grooves in the board. “Maybe I did need some space. I had an issue…some guy…” I wave my hand in the air. “It’s in the past, but I had to get away for a little while to figure out what I want and how I’m going to get it.”

I’d always thought everything would be so cut and dried once I made it in Hollywood. But the pressure, the exposure, the demands…sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating. Sometimes, I just want to remember what it feels like to be regular old Tatum Atwood, the girl who loves singing even thought she can’t carry a tune, the one who loves to scarf Twizzlers, drink Swiss Miss hot chocolate by the boxful, and hates cilantro, not the Academy award nominee who drives a Maserati and always wears Valentino to awards shows. That’s the girl the world sees. It’s all glam and glitz because that’s what people want to aspire to. But it’s not really me. My Nikes would win over Jimmy Choo any day of the week. And if I could strut around town in Old Navy cutoffs and tank tops all day, every day, I’d be happy as a clam. But Tatum Atwood could never portray that kind of image. Who’d ever aspire to be …ordinary?

Evan nods. “And how is that going? Did you get your answers?”

I shrug. “Unfortunately, it’ll probably take me more than a week, and since I leave tomorrow…” My voice drifts off, a pang in my chest alerting me to the fact that while I’m required to jump back into the craziness that is my life, I’ll be leaving behind a man who, in the most unlikely of circumstances, has made me feel like I didn’t need to look so long and hard for meaning. That maybe all I needed was to keep my eyes and my heart open.

In my reality, I’d have never been able to have this conversation with Evan. He’d have never be able to peel away my glittery layers because I would shut down, the way I’d learned to do after that whole mess with Luke. No way would I put my neck on the chopping block again. And stalkers come in all shapes and sizes. You can never be too careful.

But nobody is stalking Lila Haywood out here. She’s as safe as can be.

“Then we need to make the next few hours really count.” A teasing grin stretches across his chiseled face. I could stare at this guy forever and never tire of that smile. For all of the baggage he may be carrying, he can still manage to see the light through the murk. I like that. A lot.

I pull myself upright and hug my knees. “That’s a loaded statement. Are we still talking about surfing?” My heart thrums as heat spreads throughout my insides, his smoldering gaze making my body forget the frigid water temperature.

He reaches out to push a lock of my hair behind my ear. “If surfing is your pleasure, I’ll stay out here all night.” He leans closer. “Is that what you want, Lila? Because I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet.”