Below the Barrel (Saltwater Springs #2)

28. Maliah | Oahu, Hawaii

TWENTY-EIGHT

MALIAH | OAHU, HAWAII

We’re finally in Oahu, the last stop on this whirlwind tour, and I can feel the energy in the air. This is Koa’s home. I can see the pride in his eyes as we step onto the sands of Sunset Beach for the competition, a glint of something deeper—something more personal—every time he glances out at the ocean.

The heat of the sun, the salt on my skin, the cheers from the crowd, everything feels heightened today. We ride those waves like we’re made for them, Koa and I in perfect sync with the ocean. Every turn, every drop feels right, like we’ve tapped into something primal, something that flows deeper than just skill. And when we finish, the scores flash on the screen—first place. It’s a rush, but there’s also this calm that washes over me as I turn to Koa, knowing we did it together. He grins at me with that boyish grin before starting to paddle back to shore.

As soon as we reach the sand, towels are thrown over our heads and our boards are taken before we’re whisked to a small tent near the beach for interviews. I try my best to dry my hair and body with the towel as the cameras finish setting up, the reporters already buzzing around, eager for sound bites. Koa sits beside me, the ocean behind us, his arm draped casually over the back of my chair.

The cameras roll, and the interviewer jumps right in.

“First place at Sunset Beach, congratulations to both of you! How are you feeling, knowing Pipeline is just around the corner?”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of Pipeline so I glance at Koa, and he gives me a small nod, letting me take the first response.

“We’re excited,” I say with a smile, still catching my breath from the rush of it all. “I’ve heard that Pipeline is no joke, though. It’s one of the most dangerous waves in the world.”

Koa leans in slightly, his voice calm but serious. “The ocean here in Hawaii…she’ll either give you everything or take it all away. You have to respect her, or she’ll take it from you.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. He knows the water better than anyone, and I can tell the weight of surfing Pipeline isn’t lost on him.

The interviewer seems to catch onto the gravity of what he’s saying, nodding thoughtfully before moving on to lighter topics. But I can feel it. Pipeline is looming, and while we’ve both surfed dangerous waves before, this one is different. It’s not just the danger—it’s the history, the stakes, and for Koa, it’s personal.

I’ve heard stories of Pipeline almost my whole surfing career and it’s always been the wave that haunts my dreams; the one that terrifies me in a way no other wave does. I can feel the nervous tremor in my leg, even as I try to keep it still.

Without a word, Koa’s hand finds its way to my knee, his fingers pressing gently but firmly, grounding me in the moment. I don’t look at him, but I breathe a little easier, grateful that he knows me well enough to sense my fear.

The interviewer shifts, leaning in. “And about the two of you, there’s been a lot of speculation. The chemistry on screen—let’s just say it’s noticeable. So, what’s the story?”

I feel the question hit like a soft blow, the kind that leaves you momentarily stunned. For a second, I’m speechless, but then Koa’s hand squeezes my knee, a reminder that I don’t have to hide this anymore. I turn toward him, and he’s already smiling at me, like he knew this was coming.

“Yeah,” I finally say, my voice clear. “We’re together. We’re happy with what we have.”

The words feel freeing, as if saying them out loud makes them real all over again. Koa grins at me, his eyes full of warmth, and I can’t help but smile back.

The interviewer looks pleased, maybe even a little too pleased, but I don’t care. The camera cuts, the lights dim slightly, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us again. No cameras, no tour, no waves.

Just Koa and me.

After the interviewer wraps, the SurfFlix producers usher us off the set, sending the top five teams of remaining surfers back to the hotels to get ready for dinner, while the others have already been sent home. Cut from the tour—including Charles.

Dinner is supposed to be a big celebration after today’s competition, the last chance to unwind with other surfers before we face the intensity of Pipeline next week.

Koa and I make our way back to our shared room, the silence between us comfortable, but the adrenaline from the day still buzzing in my veins. The moment we step inside, the atmosphere shifts, like we both know exactly what’s coming next.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” I say, my voice a little lower, a little more suggestive.

Koa’s eyes flicker with amusement. “I think I’ll join you,” he replies, his lips curving into that familiar grin. We barely make it into the bathroom before his hands are on me, peeling away at my sweat and sand-stained clothes from the day.

When the hot water hits us, Koa’s lips crash against mine. The steam rises around us, his hands sliding down my body, slick with water. I moan softly into his mouth, the rush of the shower only making it feel more urgent, more necessary. We don’t have time to be slow or gentle, but that’s okay—we don’t need to be.

His hands grip my hips as I press my back against the cool tile wall, gasping when he lifts me up effortlessly. I wrap my legs around him and feel him fill me completely, losing myself in the feeling.

It’s quick, intense, our bodies moving together like we’re racing the clock. His mouth finds my neck, kissing, biting softly as I arch into him, every nerve in my body alive with need. We both know we don’t have much time, but that only makes it better, like we’re stealing these moments before we’re thrown back into the whirlwind of the tour.

We finally come together and it’s like the last of the tension from the day melts away, replaced with something deeper, more grounding.

We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, the water still pouring down over us. Then, Koa lets out a breathless chuckle, his forehead resting against mine. “Shower sex definitely beats a post-comp interview.”

I laugh, my heart still racing, and kiss him once more before we pull ourselves apart to actually start getting ready for dinner.

We meet the rest of the surfers in the hotel lobby, waiting for the bus that’s taking us to dinner. The producers have set up this whole event—a traditional luau to honour Polynesian history, complete with Mauka warriors. Everyone seems excited, chatting easily, but my mind keeps drifting back to Pipeline, the wave that’s been waiting for me.

Koa stands beside me, his hand firmly in mine. I can feel his thumb brush soothing circles on my skin, his way of grounding me, but my thoughts are still racing. I know he’s trying to distract me, trying to keep me in the moment, but I’m struggling to shake the heaviness that’s settled in my chest.

As we board the bus, the chatter around me blurs. My leg bounces anxiously against the floor, and I stare out the window at the fading sun, the ocean in the distance like a reminder of what’s coming. Koa leans over, his voice soft as he whispers, “You okay?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, just…thinking.”

His eyes search mine, and I can see he knows I’m not fine, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he just pulls me closer, resting his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean into him. I close my eyes for a moment, focusing on the warmth of his body against mine, his steady breathing. But even with him right here, I can’t stop the images flashing in my mind—of being swallowed by Pipeline, of making one wrong move and the ocean punishing me for it, of being dragged down below the barrel, watching the world above me fade away.

When we arrive at the luau, the night feels electric. The sound of drums fills the air, the crackle of fire from torches along the beach casting an orange glow over everything. The Mauka warriors are already starting their performance, their movements powerful, telling the story of their ancestors. Of Koa’s ancestors. It’s breathtaking, the energy palpable, and yet, I can’t shake the unease that’s settled in my stomach.

We sit down at a long wooden table, the others around us laughing and chatting. Koa stays close, his hand slipping from my shoulder to rest on my thigh under the table, a silent way of letting me know he’s here. I glance at him, and he gives me a small, reassuring smile.

“You’re going to be fine, princess,” he says softly, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “You’ve surfed tougher waves, trust me.”

I want to believe him, but Pipeline isn’t just another wave. It’s massive. The kind of wave that can break bones—or worse. I’ve heard the stories, seen the wipeouts that end careers or take lives, and no amount of experience prepares you for something like that.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, biting my lip as I finally let the fear slip into my voice. “What if I can’t do it, Koa? What if something goes wrong?”

He tightens his grip on my leg, his thumb brushing against my skin in slow, calming strokes. “You’re one of the best surfers in the world, Maliah. You’ve earned your spot on this tour, and you can handle Pipeline. You’re stronger than you think.”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak, the fear clawing at me.

“How about we head over to Pipeline over the next week, get you used to the waves in time for the competition. Do you think that would help?” he suggests, his expression softening.

I swallow, feeling the tightness in my chest expand. I want to believe in the strength he sees in me, but the fear won’t let go. “Okay,” I say quietly, my voice trembling just a little.

He leans in close, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way. Always.”

He nudges me with his shoulder, giving me a playful smile as he looks back at the performers. “It’s beautiful, right? Just focus on this tonight, okay? We’ll worry about Pipeline tomorrow.”

I nod, trying to let myself enjoy the moment. The food is incredible, the dancers are mesmerizing, and the energy from the warriors feel electric. Koa’s arm wraps around my waist, his thumb tracing a slow, comforting pattern on my side. He’s doing everything he can to keep me present and I appreciate it more than he’ll ever know.