I wake up with Iris in my arms.

The world is brighter. The air is sweeter. The coffee tastes better.

She doesn't even blink when I remind her we have a surfing date.

This is perfect. It's what I need.

She's what I need.

* * *

"How am I already melting?" Iris bends her elbow to reach her wetsuit's zipper. "Ah." She grabs it, pulls it down two inches, rolls the Lycra off her shoulders.

"'Cause it works." I move behind her. Roll it back up her shoulders.

"You're evil."

"I know." I slide my hand over her ass. Fuck, this was an amazing idea. She looks good enough to eat. My head already feels clear. Last night—well, the first half—already feels like a bad dream. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh." She arches her back, pressing her ass against my crotch. "Carry on."

"What are we doing again?"

"What does anyone do at eight a.m.?"

I laugh. We're way past eight a.m. Iris didn't want to get out of bed and… well, I didn't either. "Drink coffee."

"Hmm. This is sounding reasonable."

"No more coffee until you catch three waves."

"Three? Three?"

I nod. Three.

She shakes her head. "I'll never have coffee again."

I nod to the board. "On your stomach."

"Yes, sir." She winks as she drops to her hands and knees on the surfboard. Slowly, she lowers herself onto her stomach.

It's a rental, one of those obnoxious ones covered in foam—my board is way too long for her.

I drop to the sand next to her. It's already warm. Comforting. Like a hug from an old friend.

She turns her head to her side to look me in the eyes. "I could get used to this."

"You'll be begging for more soon."

"Hmm." She lets out a wistful yes, once we get home sigh.

I laugh. "You do push-ups?"

"Why would I do push-ups?"

"To improve your surfing game."

"I've done a push-up."

"When?"

"No comment."

My smile spreads over my cheeks. "This is easy—"

"I bet it's not."

"Simple. It's like a push-up, but you jump to your feet at the same time." I put my hands in position and demonstrate a pop-up. I push myself up as I jump to my side. "Land with your knees bent." I lean into the position, modeling catching my balance.

"That's easy?"

I nod.

"You need to work on your definition."

"Trust me. You can do it."

She shoots me some serious side-eye, but, still, she places her hands outside her shoulders.

"On three."

She nods.

"One, two, three."

She pushes herself up and jumps to one side. She lands for a hot second then stumbles off the board, onto the sand.

I catch her. "Great first attempt."

"How do you do this?"

"Practice."

"It's horrible."

"Suits me."

She laughs. "I guess that's true." She wipes sweat from her brow. "It's so hot like this."

"We'll be in the ocean soon."

"You have water?"

"Yeah." I dig it out from my bag and hand it to her.

She pops the lid and takes a greedy sip. She hands it over. Pulls her arm over her chest.

It's funny. That's the same gesture as Bree.

But that's about where their similarities stop and end. Iris is nothing like Bree. She's honest. Smart. Together.

Iris would never pull the kind of shit my sister does.

Her gaze turns toward the sky. "It's beautiful here, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Makes you think. You know, all that stuff about the ocean going on forever? How it never changes?"

"The ocean always wins."

"Yeah." She gnaws on her bottom lip.

It's like last night.

She's thinking something.

Hurting over something.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Maybe."

"Is that your go-to response?"

"No." Slowly, she meets my gaze. Her expression gets soft. Vulnerable. "I should tell you something."

"I know you're freaked about sharks."

"No. Well, I am. But that's not it." She takes a deep breath. "It's about… about the past, I guess."

"Is it important?"

"Yeah."

Fuck, she looks terrified.

I want to be someone Iris can lean on. I want her to be comfortable telling me anything.

But is now really the time?

She went from joyous to miserable like that.

Last night was heavy. We need something light. Fun. Easy.

"Will telling me make you feel better?" I ask.

Her brow furrows as she turns over the question. "No, it won't. But this is… you deserve to know."

"That doesn't matter."

"Walker, you—"

"No. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter."

"This will matter to you."

"It won't."

"It will."

My voice gets sure. "No. It won't. The past is the past." I slide my arms around her waist. Pull her closer. "Tell me if you want. That's your call. But if it's something that happened before we met, I don't need to know."

She looks up at me. "But you have no idea what it is."

"I don't care what it is. It doesn't matter. It's not gonna change how I feel about you. I want you exactly as you are."

She blinks, dumbfounded. "Really?"

"Yeah." There's nothing Iris could tell me that would change how I see her.

"Okay. I…" She presses her lips together. "I guess we should get to it then."

"We should."

She motions to the board. "Do I have to do the push-up thing, again?"

"It's easier on land. We need to practice. Get the muscle memory."

"You just like watching me jump in a wet suit." There's still something heavy in her voice.

"It doesn't hurt." I motion to the board.

She rolls onto her stomach, does another pop-up. Sticks the landing.

We go through another dozen. Then a dozen more. She gets flushed and breathless. Fuck, she looks like she's melting.

I know I am. Wetsuits are fucking warm on the sand.

I pick up the board and point to the beach. It's quiet here. Only a few other surfers and a couple having a picnic. We're well into Malibu. Farther than we were last night. But…

I'm not going there right now. The beach is my happy place or some cheesy shit like that. It always clears my head. Helps me make sense of the world.

I lead Iris into the water. Get deep enough to drop the board, watch her climb onto, bring it past the break point.

The ocean is freezing against my hands and toes, but it feels good. Soothing. Invigorating.

I tread water with one hand on her board.

She turns her head to look me in the eyes. Uses her arm as a pillow. "This is relaxing." All that heaviness fades from her voice.

Fuck, that makes me warm all over.

I want this. I want to see that smile every fucking day.

The waves rock the surfboard back and forth. "Can I hang out like this forever?"

"Yeah."

"Really? You'll hang there all day?"

"You underestimate how much I love it here."

"That much?"

I nod. "The ocean is constant. Steady. It can kick your ass a million ways, but it's always there, wearing rocks into sand."

"When did you learn to surf?"

"A friend's birthday party. I was eleven or twelve. I lived at the pool in the summer. Begged my parents to take us to the beach every weekend."

"Did they?"

"Yeah. But they weren't into it. They'd argue over who's turn it was then sit there, under an umbrella, working."

"Working at the beach?"

"You ever see a guy scribbling on a legal pad in board shorts?"

She shakes her head.

"Then you've never seen my dad at the beach."

"What's he do?"

"Business consulting. I'm not sure, exactly. I tune it out."

"And your mom?"

"Same kinda thing. Finance. The details always escape me."

"They worked a lot when you were a kid?"

"Yeah. We had a nanny when I was young, but she didn't really hang out with me. It was always me and Bree. She'd help me with my homework, make me dinner, let me tag along with her friends."

"You were close?"

"Yeah. Best friends. Until she went to college. She was always there to make shit better. Our parents are the type to sweep shit under the rug. They'd always pretend like everything was fine, try to hide their fights. But they didn't. I always heard them. It freaked me out. Bree would calm me down. Distract me."

Iris's lips press together. Her eyes go to her nails. They're lilac.

"I… um, I guess I should try to actually catch one of these." She motions to the waves breaking toward the beach.

Yeah. I'm here to teach her. Conversation can come later. The beach isn't the place to zone out. The ocean is merciless. It's easy to lose control. Get pulled into the depths or smacked into the sand.

I don't mind taking that risk every time I step on my board.

But I'm not asking that of Iris.

I'm here to protect her as much as I'm here to teach her.

Still. "These are shit waves. After the next set."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Parents didn't make you do Jr. Lifeguards?"

"No. Swim team. Our neighborhood had one."

"Whose didn't?"

"True."

"What was your stroke?"

"Breaststroke. You?"

"Freestyle."

"Of course."

"Of course?" I raise a brow.

"You just seem like the type." She scrunches her brow. Thinking.

About this?

Or about what she wanted to tell me?

It doesn't matter. Either way, I need to guide her through this. To get her focusing on her immediate surroundings.

I nod uh huh, even though she's full of it, then I motion to the waves. There's one rolling toward the beach. "Waves come in a set. Three or four, then there's a calm, then another set. The waves in the same set tend to be about the same size. But all the waves here are small. That's why I came here."

"Bunny slopes?"

"Basically." I turn her board in the right direction. "Think freestyle for this. You want to paddle with the wave until you feel it catch you, then do a pop-up. I'll tell when you've caught it. Yell 'Iris, now.' But the ocean's loud. You might not hear me. If you feel like you've got it, go for it."

"Uh…" She stares back at me in horror.

"You can do it. Trust me."

"That's my line."

"I'm stealing it." I press my palms against her board, push myself enough to plant a kiss on her lips.

She tastes good. Like salt and sunscreen and Iris.

A wave breaks and crashes into the sand. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you when." The next wave isn't big enough. I watch it crest, break, pound the sand. There. The next. Almost. "Now." I push her in the right direction.

She starts paddling.

And just keeps paddling.

She rides the wave all the way to the sand, but she's on her stomach the whole time.

Reasonable for a first attempt. Fuck knows it took me forever to actually get on my feet.

I swim out to meet her, help her bring the board back.

She climbs on. Shoots me a sheepish expression. "I chickened out."

"It takes time to get comfortable."

"Yeah. A long time."

A long fucking time. "Go for it when you're ready."

"No. I want to be ready. Now."

"There's no secret. You just have to do it."

She nods with understanding. Presses herself into sphinx position. Looks me in the eyes. "What do you think you're going to do about your sister?"

"I don't know."

"It's tough."

"You can still walk, you know."

"I know. I don't want to."

"You don't think I'm pathetic?"

"No."

"Merciless?"

"No. I get it. You do cut her off, she dies. You try to help, she might take you with her. And if your parents aren't following through on their threats…" Her voice gets low. Soft. "How can anyone choose between those options?"

"What would you do?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

She presses her index finger into her thumb. Stares at her purple nails. "I'd give her one chance then cut her off."

"Forever?"

"Let her know you'll be there if she gets sober. That the door is always open. But if she's not…" She looks up at the bright blue sky. Then toward the horizon. "It's too calm, huh?"

"You know a lot about this."

"Yeah."

"Anyone you know—"

"No one I loved. I, um… I guess you should talk to your parents."

"They wanted to do dinner tonight. But that was before—"

"I can talk to them if you want. Scare them with research."

"Nothing scares them."

"I can still go. Hold your hand." She presses her lips together. "Or… I don't want to intrude."

"No. I want you there."

She nods. "Good." She turns back to the ocean. "Oh. That's one, a set, right?" Her voice gets bright. "I'm going to catch this one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You'll see. I'm going to have a Roxy contract in no time flat." She looks to me with a smile.

The first waves crashes into the beach.

The next rolls toward us.

"Go." I push her board in the right direction.

She paddles. Catches the waves. Pops up with one messy step. She rides the wave for a second and a half, then she falls/jumps into the water.

It's a smooth fall. Like she's been surfing for years.

She pushes the board back to me.

And she wraps her arms around me and she kisses me like she needs everything I have to give.