The sun shines brightly as I pass by at Mancini's, an Italian guy who rents surfboards and a couple of other stuff in his shop. I'm in the mood to roll in the waves, and lucky for me the Pacific seems enraged today, which gives me thirst for the challenge. The noise, the breeze, the laughter from half-naked ladies and gents make me feel good.
Two days and I haven't heard a word about Liam. His phone is off and I wonder if the hospital lady managed to return it to him or not. Maybe it's with the police now.
"Is this you, bellissima?" Mancini gasps as I dash in.
"The one and only, boo! What's up?" I grin, and he comes over to pull me for a hug. "Jeez, do I get an upgrade from all the missment? I could use the best surfboard you have," I tease, hugging him back.
Big smile, curly raven hair, Mancini is anything but a boring average guy.
"Still looking good, honeybee." He pulls back, speaking in that cute Italian accent upon grasping my appearance. "An upgrade you shall have. Giving you the Godzilla, King of the Sea." He dramatically shows me the big guy—a black and yellow surfboard.
"Hmm, lucky me, but I'll pass. I want my beauty." I reach for my usual surfboard, ready to wax it and get it over with.
"Your wish is my command. But I'm glad you're back in track. Welcome to little Californian Italy. Although I still think our Venice is the best." He can be a charmer.
"There we go again." I roll my eyes. "Fine, I'll someday visit the Italian Venice. And Tuscany, of course." I give him a wink.
"You should, bellissima." He returns behind the counter as two guys pop in asking for something, and it's my cue to move.
The breeze blows my curls, and the waves draw my smile. I simply love the beach life. After a moment I peel off the T-shirt dress I'm wearing, leaving my sports bralette and tight briefs on. I tie my hair into a tight bun, watching the waves rolling furiously.
Sighing, I bend over and fasten the surfboard leash to my ankle. Damn, it's been a while.
Shaken by the waves. cool water splashes on my legs as I lay myself on the board, getting familiar with the ocean before paddling smoothly to the deep water. It's so refreshing. When I see a big wave coming my way, I jump up stoutly, my feet steadfast on the board, ready to face it.
After exploring an hour of surfing, releasing every tension in my body, I finally decide to call it a morning. It's funny how water can fix a lot of things in different ways. It's life. I do feel restored to at least half of my former glory when I juggle back, all soaked and wet.
"Wow, that was quite a move there," a masculine voice says, and my gaze meets the handsome face that draws me a startled smile. "Surprise!"
I stand like a fool, grinning.
"What are you doing here, Escobar? When did you get back from Rio?" I steady the surfboard to my side, water still dripping from my curls.
"God." He sighs, and then wanders off his blue eyes that remind me of someone. My heart shrieks. "After getting myself a third gold medal? And my name is Pedro, in case you've forgotten."
"Such a brag," I remark. "You know I'd never call you Pedro, even if you beg down on your knees, right?' I step onto dry sand, letting it stick to my feet annoyingly.
"Not if you pronounce it like that?" He helps me with the surfboard by carefully placing it down.
I wipe my face with a smile as I watch Pedro Levi, a Cuban-American surfer who made me love surfing at the sight of him crashing the waves so artfully.
YOU ARE READING
The Coldest Summer✓
Romance"I'm a terrible dancer," I whisper. "And I guess the cowboy is much better than the city girl." My sarcasm is purely intended, and when he smiles heat courses through me. "The minute you start thinking is when you step on your partner's foot, Ms. Jo...
