"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 until you're screaming for forgiveness," I whispered, "until your apologies are like melodies in my ears and 'you won' are the only words your lips know how to form."
His smile brought the temperature in the room down a coup...
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Oh, fucking hell.
Emilia had about fallen off the surfboard and into the water 20 times by now, and I would never get over how she looked every time she emerged from the ocean.
Her dark hair was dripping wet, framing her smiling face, and I wanted to trace the path of every droplet of ocean water down her body with my tongue. Her swimsuit clung impossibly tighter to her figure, and it took everything inside of me to not get on my knees in front of her, then and there.
But it was the fact that she allowed herself this close to the water that made me admire her further. Despite everything she had been through, she still chose to face her fears and showed no sign of being afraid when she fell into the water.
"Are we seriously going to try this again?" she chuckled, approaching the surfboard.
I gave her my best grin. "Only if you want."
She sighed, still smiling, and used her arms to lift herself onto the board. I grabbed her waist to assist her, and it took every ounce of restraint to keep my hands from traveling elsewhere.
She finally got onto the board, lying on her stomach. She slowly raised onto her hands and knees while I held the board steady.
"Is this good?" she asked, glancing down at me with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
"It's good. Do you want to try paddling again, or do you want to stand?"
Her expression turned determined – something I looked forward to seeing everyday back when we were in Harvard. "I'm going to stand."
I raised my brows. "And you're confident in that?"
She gave me a pointed look. "You aren't?"
I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Of course. You can do anything."
"I know." She slowly put one foot on her board and steadied herself before transferring her other foot until she was basically squatting. Then, miraculously, she put her hands out to balance herself and stood on the board, the astounded look on her face mirroring mine.
"Should I let go?" I asked, motioning with my head to where my hands gripped the board to prevent her from falling off.
"Go ahead. I can balance," she said, her nose pointed in the air with a confident demeanor.
"Whatever you say," I muttered, then slowly let go. The board wobbled, but I'll give her credit. She stayed on for about five seconds before a wave came and knocked her over.
Somehow, we had gotten further into the water than I'd wanted. The wave only pulled us further out, and the water was almost up to my head. When she fell on top of me, I tried to catch her, but she slipped from my reach and further out to sea.
