Typical Mark. That was just one more reason we kept coming back to each other, despite the arguments and accusations. No matter how upset he was with me, he always had my back. And I always had his.

“It’s probably the lack of ocean water,” I joked. “Four days without it and I’m all dried out.”

“So, does that mean you’re ready to do this thing?”

“Absolutely.”

“Last one in is a Barney!” Logan started toward the ocean at a dead run.

Mark and I took off after him, and by the time I reached the water I was laughing like a crazy woman. I couldn’t help it—it just felt so good to be out there, doing what I loved, that I couldn’t believe I’d let fear keep me away for the better part of a week.

The others joined in, and as we paddled out together it was like I’d never left.

“Yo, Scooter, what happened to you out there? Too busy worrying about your looks to catch a wave?” Bach called.

“You dropped in on me—it was back off or run you over.”

“The day you can run me over, bro—”

“Shoulder hop me again and I’ll show you what I can do.”

“Oooh, I’m scared.”

“You should be. I—”

“Are you two done yet?” This from Logan.

“Almost. Why?” Bach glanced back at him.

“Because you’re about to get worked.”

“What?” His head spun forward. “Oh crap!”

The wave crashed over him, spinning him surfboard over heels, and then we were all ducking through it or going over it—waiting on the monster wave we’d been watching from way back.

“Hey, Tempest, you ready?” Mark called.

“Never more.” It was true—for this one moment, I felt great. My body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do and I could almost feel the wave beneath me.

“Here it comes!” yelled Scooter.

I watched as the guys took off, one after another, but still I waited. It didn’t feel right yet, didn’t feel—

Yes! There it was! I pushed up and it was magic—one of those rides where everything just comes together like it was meant to be. I found the sweet spot right off, and I swear it was like I was flying. And when I managed to pop a monster aerial, I really was flying for a few, perfect seconds. The guys roared in approval as I rode the wave all the way in—long after they had dropped out.

I reached shore before them, but I was alone less than a minute before Mark grabbed me in a gigantic bear hug and swung me around. “That was fantastic! You got crazy huge air.”

“What can I say?” I laughed. “Some people got it—”

“And some people don’t,” said a voice behind me.

I froze at the interruption, every hair on my body standing straight up in red alert.

“Yo, man, how’s it going?” Mark set me back on my feet and extended a friendly hand over my shoulder.

“It’s going. Obviously not as well as it is for her, but it’s going.”

“No doubt. My girl’s got mad skills.”

“That she does.”

I still hadn’t turned around, and Mark was looking at me strangely, so I faked an interest in a make-believe ding on my surfboard.

“Hey, Tempe, I want you to meet this guy. He’s been surfing with us the last couple of days and his skills are as crazy as yours.”

His friend laughed, a low, warm chuckle that had my blood running hot and a bowling ball weighing down my stomach. My joy at being in the water drained away as quickly as it had come and suddenly, I wanted to be anyplace but where I was.

But since the ground opening and swallowing me whole wasn’t really a viable option, I braced myself and slowly turned to face the newcomer—already convinced of what I would see.

Sure enough, standing next to Mark with a grin as wide as the Pacific was a tall, bronzed, well-muscled guy with dark hair and wild, wicked eyes. The same guy who’d been haunting my dreams—and my nightmares—for the last four days.

“Tempest, this is Kona. Kona, my girl, Tempest.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Kona said, tongue totally in cheek. “Mark has told me a lot about you.”

He reached for my hand and as our fingers touched, I felt a jolt deep inside myself—as if the two halves of my world had just violently, irrevocably collided.

Chapter 6

I wanted to snatch my hand back.

Wanted to go on holding his hand forever.

Wanted … so much that I wasn’t sure where to start or how to ask for what it was that I needed.

“Yeah. It’s good to meet you too.”

His thumb rubbed across the back of my hand, causing shivers to run up and down my spine like little windswept feathers. I braced for the pain I always felt when someone touched me these days, but there was none. Only a pleasure so intense that I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“So, are you ready to go again?” Mark asked, his eyes darting between us like we were players at a tennis match. I could see them darkening with suspicion, and I pulled at my hand, trying to get Kona to let it go before Mark turned all macho he-man on me.

Kona’s fingers slowly released mine, but not without a final squeeze that had my breath catching in my throat. How can this be happening? I wondered crazily. More importantly, why was it happening? And why now, when I already had more than enough changes to focus on?

“Are you?” Kona’s voice was a little raspier than it had been, his eyes just a little darker—as if the contact between us had affected him as well.

“Am I what?”

“Are you ready?”

The words hung in the air between us—trapped—and it was like he could see inside of me. Like he knew so much more than I did about … everything.

“Ummm—” Did I mention that I’m not the most articulate person at the best of times, and under pressure, my words dry up as completely as the desert during a sandstorm?

“Of course she’s ready.” Mark wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me against his body, and for one irrational second I felt like a bone being pulled in different directions by two slavering, growling dogs. Except both of these guys still had smiles on their faces. “Right, Tempest?”

“Yeah, of course.” I gave him the answer he wanted, but it was just another discernible lie. I wasn’t ready to go into the ocean again, not with Kona watching every move I made. But Mark couldn’t see inside my head and as he pulled me toward the water, pain ricocheted down my arms.

Again, I wondered at the differing sensations. Pain from Mark, the guy I was pretty sure I loved and who I felt secure around. Pleasure from Kona, the guy I didn’t know how to respond to and who I certainly didn’t trust.

Mark propelled me down the beach until the surf danced around my ankles and licked at me like a hundred tongues of fire. Something was coming, it seemed to tell me as it burned where it normally soothed. Something big, and I couldn’t hide from it anymore.

As if I had ever been able to.

We started paddling out, and within seconds Mark was ahead of me, his whipcord-lean body stretched out over his board like an offering to the surf gods. Normally I would be right there with him, pushing into the water—desperate for the next big wave—but instead I hung back, hesitant to push off with Kona so close.