Below the Barrel (Saltwater Springs #2)

13. Koa |Tavarua, Fiji

THIRTEEN

KOA |TAVARUA, FIJI

After the long day of activities, my muscles are sore, and I can tell by the way Maliah keeps flexing her shoulders that she’s feeling the same. I almost whimper in pleasure when I realize the cave tour ends with a spa. The production crew directs us towards the mud spa area, where a nearby hot spring has steam rising from the mud pools, a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus drifting through the air. I notice Maliah eyeing the mud bath with equal parts curiosity and hesitation and I can’t hold back my grin.

“Come on,” I say, nudging her shoulder. “You’ve already faced your fear of heights today. A little mud isn’t going to hurt you.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the smile she tries to hide. We both grab robes and towels from the attendants before heading to the changing rooms. By the time we come out, the sun is starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light over everything.

Maliah sits on the edge of the mud pool, her toes dipping into the warmth, testing it out. I take a seat beside her, watching as she gets used to the temperature. She leans forward slightly and slides in, so I follow right behind her, feeling the soft, warm mud squish under my feet as I lower myself in.

She sighs, closing her eyes as she sinks into the mud, clearly enjoying herself. “Okay, I’ll admit,” she says, “this is pretty nice.”

“Told you.” I smirk, leaning back and letting the warmth seep into my muscles.

We sit like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet sounds of nature and the heat, but I can’t resist reaching over, grabbing a handful of mud, and slowly smearing it along her upper arm. Her skin is soft under my fingers, and I feel the subtle tremor as my touch lingers just a moment too long. She opens one eye to look at me, raising an eyebrow.

“You really want to start that?” she asks, her voice dripping with playful challenge.

I grin. “Why not? It’s part of the experience, right?”

She rolls her eyes but grabs her own handful of mud, smearing it along my arm in return. We go back and forth like this for a minute, the mood light and easy, until I smear some along her shoulder and down her back, my fingers lingering on her skin for just a little longer than necessary.

“You know,” I say softly as I rub the mud across her shoulders, “I’ve been thinking about what you said before. About starting your own bakery.”

She tenses a little under my touch but doesn’t pull away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “I really do think it’s a good idea. I mean it. You’ve always had that passion for baking, and it makes sense for you to want to explore that.”

She turns slightly, looking at me with wide eyes. “You really think it could work? Even with surfing and everything?”

“I do,” I say, my voice steady. “You’re good at juggling things. And who says you can’t do both? Surf and bake? You can hire people to help with the day-to-day stuff while you’re away, but it could be something that’s yours, you know?”

I know how important it is to Maliah to have something that’s hers . That was never surfing, she only joined The Saltwater Shredders because her parents had pushed her into it. Having her on this tour has been her father’s dream for as long as I can remember.

Her lips tug into a soft smile, and she looks down, rubbing a bit of mud between her fingers. “It’s scary, though. Stepping away from something I’ve known my whole life.”

I nod. “But you can’t let fear stop you from doing what you want. And besides, you’re not really stepping away. You’d still be surfing. You’re just…expanding. Trying something new.”

She stays quiet for a minute, thinking about it. “I guess I’m just worried I’ll fail. What if no one comes to my bakery? What if it flops?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Maliah, have you met you? You’d never let that happen. And honestly, I think people will be lining up for your pastries.”

Her cheeks flush, and she dips her head slightly, clearly embarrassed by the compliment. “You really think I can do this, huh?”

“I know you can,” I say, and there’s no hesitation in my voice. “Besides, I’m already planning to move into that abandoned house we talked about. If you turn it into a bakery, I guess I’ll just have to live above it or something.”

She laughs softly, and it’s a sound I could listen to for hours. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

I lean closer, my voice teasing. “Maybe. But only if you save me the best desserts.”

She smirks, looking at me through her lashes. “We’ll see.”

I can sense the conversation dying off, but I’m not ready to stop talking to her yet, so I grapple at anything. “How do you picture it? How would you design it?”

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” she admits, her fingers playing with the mud idly. “I want it to have an open, inviting feel. Rustic but modern. You know, lots of warm woods and big windows. I’d probably keep the exterior as is though, but give it a little facelift.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What about the inside? You gonna go all out on those cozy vibes?”

“Definitely.” She scoffs. “I want it to feel like a place people can just hang out, you know? Maybe a bookshelf, plants everywhere…and a big display case right at the front with fresh pastries and desserts.”

“What kind of pastries are you thinking of making?”

“I’d offer something new every week, just to keep it interesting.”

“Like what?” I ask, my hand moving down her back now, carefully applying more mud as I go. “Signature bakes? Weekly specials?”

She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Exactly! Seasonal items too—fresh fruit pies in the summer, warm cinnamon rolls in the winter, maybe even themed cakes for holidays.”

I smirk, leaning a bit closer to her as I slide my hands to her hips, pulling her muddy back against my chest. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. And what would you call this bakery of yours?”

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade before she shrugs, trying to play it off. “I haven’t landed on a name yet…maybe something to do with the beach, or?—”

I press in closer, my lips near her ear now. “How about something like Maliah’s Temptations ?” I murmur, my tone playful.

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible, Koa.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” I tease, running my fingers lightly down her spine. The way her breath catches doesn’t go unnoticed, and I feel a surge of pride knowing I’m affecting her.

She leans back slightly, her body pressed close against mine, and I can feel the tension rising between us. Her fingers dip into the mud, and before I realize it, she’s turned herself around and smears it right across my chest.

“Looks like you need some help too.” She grins mischievously.

I chuckle, enjoying the shift in her mood. “Oh, so we’re playing that game?”

“Maybe,” she says, her voice soft but teasing. Her hand lingers as she spreads the mud over my skin, her fingers trailing slow paths. The way her touch lingers feels far more intimate than it should.

I catch her wrist, stopping her before I lose control. “You know,” I whisper, locking my gaze with hers, “you’re going to have to share that bed with me again tonight. And after this…” I trail off, letting the implication hang between us.

Her eyes widen, and for a second, I think she’s going to pull away. But instead, she smirks, a boldness coming through. “You wish,” she shoots back, though her voice wavers slightly.

The conversation fades as we continue spreading the mud over each other’s skin, the intimacy of the moment hanging between us. Every touch, every gentle caress, feels heavy with unspoken words, a quiet tension simmering just below the surface.

Eventually, she speaks again, her voice quieter now, “Last night…sleeping next to you…it was?—”

“Comfortable,” I finish for her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” she agrees, her eyes focused on the mud as she continues to spread it over my chest. “It wasn’t awkward or anything. It just felt…natural.”

I nod. “It felt like that for me when we shared my bed back at the hotel in Australia too. If anything, sleeping next to you earns me the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a while.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Same.”

There’s a brief silence before she asks, “Do you think it’ll be like that every night for the next two weeks?”

I smirk, my hands pausing as I meet her gaze. “I hope so.”

“Me too,” she whispers.

And just like that, the tension between us thickens, but it’s not the kind that makes you want to run. It’s the kind that makes you want to lean in, to see what happens next. The heat between us spikes, the tension crackling in the air. Just as I’m about to close the distance between us, an attendant clears their throat.

“Time to wash off so the next group can come in,” she says politely, but the interruption is enough to break the moment. Maliah’s face burns crimson as she glances away quickly. I can’t help but smirk as I watch her climb out of the pool, the thoughts swirling in my head far from innocent. I can’t wait to get back to the villa now.

The moon is out, casting a bright glow across the water when we get back to the villa. Maliah walks inside first, her hair still damp from the hot springs, skin practically glowing. I follow behind her, my eyes on her—always on her. She moves through the room with this quiet grace, even when she’s pretending like she doesn’t know I’m watching her.

“I’m so sore, I don’t think I can move,” she groans, stretching her arms over head, her top riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of her waist. “That was way too much adventure for one day.”

I smirk, leaning against the wall, crossing my arms. “What, you didn’t enjoy me holding you for dear life on the zip line?”

She shoots me a playful glare, walking past me towards the bedroom. “Don’t flatter yourself. I could’ve done it without you.”

“Sure you could’ve,” I call after her, chuckling as I head to the kitchen. “You want something to drink? Water? Wine?”

There’s a pause before she answers, “Wine sounds good.”

I grab two glasses and pour the wine, hearing her rummaging around in the bedroom. By the time she comes back, she’s changed into tiny shorts and a cropped tank top, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She looks too comfortable, too damn tempting, and it’s hard to keep my thoughts straight.

She sits beside me on the couch, keeping a little space between us, but I can still feel the tension hanging thick in the air, like we’ve been dancing around something all day. I hand her the wine glass, taking a sip of mine as I settle back, trying to act casual even though my mind is anything but.

After a few quiet minutes, I can’t help myself. I glance at her, then ask, “Do you ever think about it?”

Her brows furrow, confused. “Think about what?”

“Us,” I say, watching her closely. “Sharing a bed…last night…everything that’s happened between us.”

Her body stills for a second, and I can see the way her fingers tighten around her glass, like she’s bracing herself. I don’t rush her to answer though, I know she has a million thoughts running through her head right now, and I want to hear them—every single one.

“How could I not?” she finally admits, keeping her eyes on her wine.

I put my glass down on the coffee table, turning full towards her. “And what do you think when you do?”

She takes a slow breath, her eyes darting to mine for a split second before she looks away again. I can tell she’s trying to find the right words, but I don’t need much more than that—her hesitation says it all.

“I think…” she starts, but then stops, biting her bottom lip.

My eyes zero in on the motion, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and close the gap between us. Her breathing grows fast, and I can tell she’s battling herself, trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, she speaks, “I think it scares me.”

That wasn’t what I was expecting, but I stay calm, leaning in a little closer. “Why?”

She shifts in her seat, looking more nervous now. “Because we were supposed to be over. But now…it feels like we never really were.”

I move closer, my knee brushing against hers, just enough to let her know I’m right there, not backing down. “We weren’t,” I tell her softly. “You know that.”

She looks down, and for a second, I think she might shut me out again, but then I see her shoulders relax, just a little. I’m not letting her hide this time.

“We can’t just pick up where we left off,” she whispers.

“Who says we’re picking up?” I ask, my voice low. My hand finds her knee, my fingers brushing the soft skin there. “Maybe we’re starting something new.”

She looks at me then, really looks at me, and for the first time today, I can see the walls she’s been putting up starting to crack. I know I’m pushing her, but I have to. I can’t keep pretending like this tension between us isn’t driving me insane.

Her breath hitches as my fingers trail up her thigh, slow, deliberate. The air between us is thick now, like we’re standing on the edge of something we can’t back away from. My hand moves up to her face, cupping her cheek gently, and she leans into my touch.

“Tell me you don’t feel it, too,” I whisper, my thumb grazing her bottom lip. Her eyes flicker to mine and I see her pulse quicken in the hollow of her throat. She’s fighting it, just like she always does, but I know the truth.

She feels it.

She leans forward but stops just short of kissing me, her breath mingling with mine.

“I—” she starts, but the words get caught somewhere between her heart and her throat.

I lean in just a fraction closer, my lips barely brushing hers. “I can wait,” I murmur, my voice rough with restraint, “but don’t lie to me, Maliah. You feel it. Just like I do.”

Her resolve crumbles, and before I can think, she’s kissing me. It’s soft at first, hesitant, but when my hand slips around her waist and pulls her against me, she kisses me harder, deeper. I can feel the urgency in the way her fingers tangle in my hair, the way she presses herself into me like she’s been holding back for too long.

It’s like the world stops. Every thought, every doubt I’ve been carrying, fades away, replaced by the feel of her lips on mine. Months of pent-up tension finally finds release in this single moment. I’ve kissed her before, a thousand times, even back in Australia, but this feels different. This feels like the first time all over again, like she’s handing me a piece of herself that I thought I’d lost forever.

It's not just physical; it’s emotional, raw, and real in a way that hits me right in the chest.

I’m about to deepen the kiss, but just as fast as it started, she pulls back, her eyes wide, breathless.

“We can't,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I need to figure out my feelings first.”

The warmth that had flooded through me begins to fade and my heart drops a little, knowing that whatever this moment was, it’s not enough to fix everything—not yet.

“Alright,” I say softly, pulling back a little but keeping my hand on her waist, not ready to let her go just yet. “But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

She nods, her breathing still a little shaky. “I know.”

The energy of competition day crackles around me like static in the air, fuelling the adrenaline that’s already pumping through my veins. The moment my feet hit the sand, everything sharpens—my focus, my breathing, my senses. The cameras, the crowd, the pressure—it all fades into the background. The only thing that matters now is the surf. Cloudbreak is roaring, the waves as massive and menacing as I expected, but that’s exactly what we wanted.

I glance at Maliah beside me. Going forward on the tour, we’ll all be going into the waters with our partners instead of splitting up the men and women’s heats. She’s adjusting her leash, her face a little tense, her brows furrowed in that way they do when she’s trying to psych herself up. I can tell she’s nervous, and hell, so am I, but I also know that once we’re out there, the fear will burn away, leaving only instinct and adrenaline.

The camera crews are already in place, capturing every second of us as we prepare. I shove them out of my mind, focusing only on the surf ahead. Cloudbreak looks insane today—walls of water just waiting to crush anyone who dares take them on. Perfect.

I run a hand through my damp hair, glancing at the horizon. The wave of the day is forming out there, rising slowly, a beast waiting to strike. My heart pounds in anticipation. This is what I live for.

I look over at Maliah. “Ready?”

She nods, her eyes fierce, the nerves replaced by something else now. Determination. She’s locking in, and I know she’s going to kill it.

We paddle out together, side by side, slicing through the water with long, powerful strokes. The current’s strong, but we’ve faced worse. The Point is where we’re going to make our mark today, I feel it in my bones.

A massive set starts to build in the distance. I spot the perfect wave, a monster, and glance at Maliah. We lock eyes and I give her a quick nod. This one’s hers.

“You take the first one,” she calls out, but I shake my head.

“You go. Show ‘em what you’ve got.”

She hesitates for a second before turning her board toward the wave. Her paddling is strong, determined. I watch as she drops in, her timing perfect, the wave lifting her as she flies down the face. It’s a beauty of a wave, and she’s riding it like it’s hers.

I sit back for a second, just watching her. Her cutbacks are sharp, her form perfect. She’s hitting every section exactly like we talked about. When she hits the middle section, she crouches low disappearing into the barrel, completely tucked inside the tube. I hold my breath. She’s in deep, but I know she’s got it. The seconds tick by, and just when I think the wave might take her, she comes flying out, riding clean and sure.

Damn. She looks incredible out there. The announcer’s voice crackles over the speaker as the crowd cheers, but I barely hear it. My heart’s still hammering from watching her crush that ride.

My turn.

Positioning myself at The Point as the next set rolls in, I feel the wave begin to swell beneath me. I paddle hard, feeling the rush of the drop as I’m lifted, gravity pulling me down the steep face. The power of the wave hits me like a freight train, but I’m in control, moving with it, not against it.

I carve through the top section, pushing my board to the limit. Every cutback, every turn is sharp, deliberate. I’m showing them exactly what I’ve got, what Gabriel’s drilled into us over the years. The water sprays in my face as I carve back into the wave, the wind rushing through my hair.

The middle section comes up fast, the barrel forming. I crouch low, lining up the tube perfectly. The world goes silent as I slip inside, the roar of the wave enveloping me. Inside the barrel, time seems to slow—just me and the ocean. The pulse of the wave thrums through my board, through my bones, and I can feel the ocean’s raw power beneath me. It’s risky, but that’s what makes it so damn exhilarating.

I shoot out of the tube just as the wave starts to close, my timing perfect. Shish Kebabs is next, the section that’s claimed plenty of surfers. The water speeds up as I hit the inside section, and I know I’ve only got seconds before this thing turns deadly. With one sharp curve, I pull out of the wave, just before it swallows itself.

I ride it all the way to the shore, heart pounding, chest heaving. The crowd erupts as I kick out, and I can hear the announcers calling out my score. I look over at Maliah, who’s waiting for me at the shore, her face lit up with a huge grin.

“Not bad, huh?” she teases, clearly buzzing from her ride.

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Not bad? You killed it out there.”

She scoffs playfully, but there’s something softer in her eyes when she looks at me today. “You didn’t do too bad yourself.”

I flash her a grin as the world around us blurs. The cheers of the crowd, the cameras—none of it matters. It’s just me and her, riding the high of the competition and that unspoken connection between us.

The scoreboard flashes our combined scores, and I feel a surge of pride as we lock in first place.

“We did it,” I say, unable to hold back my grin.

Maliah nods, her eyes sparkling as she smiles up at me. “Yeah. We really did.”