Chapter 5

“Hey, do you give lessons?”

Zara turned toward the man asking the question, saying, “Yeah, sure, all the—” She cut off when she saw it was Noah. She cursed herself for speaking so quickly. Her exuberance to book another job—anything that made money and kept her out of the restaurant—had cost her this time.

“I mean, not anymore.” She gave him a tight, closed-mouth smile as he approached. It was wholly criminal how good he looked wearing a pair of sunglasses, his hands all tucked in his pockets like they were.

“Too bad,” he said, staring out over the beautiful, teal water of the East Bay. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf.”

“You grew up on an island and don’t know how to surf?” Zara stared at him, disbelief racing through her. “That’s just wrong.”

“The water’s not exactly the same,” he said, glancing in her direction. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she was sure he was glaring. The heat of his look seared her, so her assumption had to be right.

He seemed to be focused on Burke, and Zara startled before stepping between him and Ash’s new husband. “Should we go?”

Burke edged closer though, his smile wide as he said, “Hey, I’m Burke Lawson.”

“Holden Montego,” Noah said, shaking Burke’s hand. And the name sounded so…true. It had flawlessly slipped out of his mouth as if he’d said it thousands of times before. And Zara wondered if Noah Wales was even his real name.

Probably not, she told herself.

“Are you two together?” Noah asked, and Zara almost choked.

“No.” Burke laughed and pointed down the beach a bit. “My wife is down there. She and Zara are best friends.” He turned back to Noah. “But she doesn’t like to surf, and Zara does, and she’s nice enough to let me tag along sometimes.”

“So nice,” Noah said with a hugely false smile in place.

“Okay,” Zara said. “Time to go.”

“If he wants to surf, we could rent a board,” Burke said, making things infinitely worse.

“Oh, no,” Zara said, shaking her head. “No, he’s not even wearing swimming trunks, and we need to get….” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. She couldn’t say “home,” because then Burke would be suspicious about their living situation.

Heat flared in Zara’s body, especially when Noah just stood there, mute. If he could make up pseudonyms on the spot, couldn’t he come up with a reason they needed to leave the beach? Of course he could.

“Get where?” Burke asked, glancing between the two of them. He took a couple of steps closer to Zara and asked in a near-whisper, “Are you two dating?”

“What?” Zara’s laughter was probably too loud. She didn’t care. “No.” She scoffed and shook her head, looking at Noah just standing there. “No, we are not dating. I’m just giving him a ride somewhere,” she said, seizing onto the perfect excuse. “You know how I do that My Car, Your Destination thing sometimes.”

A sour look crossed Burke’s face. “I thought you gave that up after that guy—”

“Well, I didn’t,” Zara practically yelled at him, hoping he’d shut up already. The last thing she needed was Noah finding out about the incident that had ended with Zara sitting in the police station, giving statements, until three o’clock in the morning.

She met Noah’s gaze, and even through those blasted mirrored shades, and she could feel his curiosity practically sizzling in the air between them.

“And we need to go.” She started toward Ash, who lay on her back, a book held up in the sky over her face. She reached her friend and said, “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Ash said, totally unconcerned.

Zara shoved her clothes in her bag and wadded up her towel under her other arm. She marched up the beach, away from her friends, without checking to see if Noah was behind her. He was. He had no other way back to the house, and he couldn’t stay down in town, out in the open.

Sure enough, she’d pulled on a T-shirt and tossed her beach stuff in the backseat when he joined her. “They seem nice,” he said.

“So nice,” she echoed back to him in a sarcastic voice, the way he had to Burke down on the beach. She set to work tying her board to the top of the sedan, surprised when Noah helped by securing the lines on his side.

Zara snuck glances at him across the top of the car, finally finishing and saying, “Thank you.” She didn’t mean to sound so begrudging about it, but she couldn’t suck the words back in and try again.

So she got behind the wheel of the car, and then jumped back out. “Oh. The blankets.”

Noah groaned as he opened the back door, and by the time she made it around to the passenger side in the back, he was in position.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe you could sit in the front and just lay your seat down.”

“No, just put the blankets on, and let’s go.”

She worked not to throw them with all the force she had in her as she told herself that he probably didn’t mean to sound so demanding. So barky, like she better jump to it with a smile on her face.

Probably, probably, probably, she told herself all the way up to the bluffs and into the garage. Then she got out and left Noah in the backseat to get himself out.

The scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon urged her awake the following morning. Zara rolled over and breathed in deep, comfortable and warm and still woozy. She’d been having the best dream about lying by the swimming pool at the mansion, a smoothie from The Straw on the ground beside her chaise.

The sun was glorious. The view even better. And then Noah had come out, bringing pizza and chocolate chip cookies for her. He’d put them on the table nearby and taken off his shirt—

Zara’s eyes snapped open.

No…she had not just had a summer fantasy about Noah. The man was absolutely maddening, even if he knew his way around a kitchen.

She sat up and pushed the comforter off her legs. She wasn’t even that hungry. Her stomach chose that moment to protest loudly about how long ago her last meal had been, and she reached for her phone to see how late she was.

“Only seven-thirty?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe the numbers on the home screen of her phone. She had swimming practice that morning at nine, so she’d shower after work. So maybe she had time for a quick bite to eat before heading out.

The fact that she never ate breakfast…well, no one needed to know that. Especially not the handsome man standing in the kitchen, twirling a pair of tongs like they were drumsticks as he sang along with the music blasting through the house.

She leaned against the wall and watched him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. So maybe he was adorable when he let go of his stuffy Prince persona. Maybe he was capable of having a conversation that didn’t include sarcastic remarks and barking commands.

He flipped a few pieces of bacon and lifted the tongs to his mouth like they were a microphone.

Zara couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth.

Noah stiffened and turned toward her, a perfectly pleasing blush entering his cheeks.

“Oh, go on,” she said with a sweeping motion of her arm. “I have a feeling we were just getting to the good part.”

He reached up to a speaker on top of the fridge and turned down the music. “What?”

She shook her head and kept grinning. “Nothing. Are you sure you’re a prince?” She gasped, but it was obviously fake and over-the-top. “Maybe you’re Prince. You know, the Prince. They reported that he’d passed away, but I don’t know….” She cocked her head. “I think you kind of look like him.”

Noah frowned, reached to turn off the burner under the bacon, and twisted away from her as he lined a plate with paper towels. “Who’s Prince?”

“Oh, now that’s just sad,” Zara said as she moved into the kitchen and took her spot at the bar. “You don’t know who Prince is?”

“No, I don’t.” And the barking was back.

“He’s a pop star,” Zara said, eyeing the cinnamon rolls and enjoying herself entirely too much. “I don’t think he used tongs for a mic, though.” She giggled, and Noah turned around, half a smile on his face too.

“I’m definitely not a pop star.”

“What I heard goes to the contrary.” This banter—flirtatious banter?—was better than the sarcastic jabs. At least Zara liked it better.

He set the plate of bacon on the counter and asked, “Are you eating or going?”

“Eating first,” she said. “Then going. I have practice today.” Then she’d bring in all the stuff she’d packed at her apartment. She had another week to get everything out, and she was planning to make several trips.

“What time are you going down on Thursday?” he asked, using a rubber spatula to retrieve a cinnamon roll from the pan.

“I have practice at nine,” she said.

“Can I get a ride to Your Tidal Forever?” He looked at her, and for a moment, Zara felt like she was falling.

A breath in, then out, and everything righted itself. She looked away, suddenly self-conscious with him. With her heart beating at the speed of hummingbird wings, she reached for a piece of bacon.

“Sure, yeah,” she said, a nervous undertone to the words. “We’ll just have to leave a little earlier. My practice facility is in the other bay.”

“Tell me what time,” he said, the words gentle. “And I’ll be ready.”

Zara nodded and busied herself with bacon and frosted buns, this new energy between them completely different than before. Had he felt it too? Had she just never looked him fully in the eyes before?

She wasn’t sure how she even felt, and her stomach turned over and over as she cleaned up her dishes, gathered her swim gear, and drove down to town. As she pulled into the parking lot at the amphitheater, where they’d be practicing that morning, Zara realized she’d been attracted to Noah.

Physically and emotionally attracted to him.

“Not happening,” she muttered to herself as she heaved her heavy bag onto her shoulder and joined a couple of other women heading into the locker room.

So not happening.

After all, he was a prince in a country several oceans over, and she was a synchronized swimmer with a very traditional Indian family. The very idea of bringing Noah home to meet her parents was laughable—and caused a healthy dose of fear to tumble through her. Her mother would eat Noah for breakfast.

No, she’d house sit for the summer. Keep the paparazzi away from Noah. She’d get to lie by the pool and drink her fruity smoothies and perform in her shows at night.

Noah would do…whatever Noah was doing in Getaway Bay, and then Zara’s life would go back to normal.

She took a deep breath, getting quite the lungful of chlorine, satisfied with this new plan no matter how much her heart wailed at her to please give Noah a chance.

Do you want to get broken? she asked it as she changed into her dark blue practice suit and made sure she had her goggles and nose clips. Because that’s what’ll happen. Men like Noah…they break hearts.

Her pulse finally settled after that, and she could focus on what she needed to do that day—master the three-sixty leg kick while wearing heels in the swimming pool. She definitely didn’t have room for Noah Wales in her brain too.