Discovering Delilah (Harborside Nights, Book 2) by Melissa Foster Page B

to surf,” Drake offers. “You really should learn. Don’t you think, Brent?”
    “Absolutely. Ash, take him up on the offer. He’s the best surf instructor around.” Brent hands Drake his purchases.
    “You’re a surf instructor?”
    Drake nods. “Yup. Leave it to me. I’ll have you up on the board and comfortable within a week. You’ll love it—you’ll see. What’s your schedule?Can you make dawn patrol tomorrow?”
    Dawn patrol is when surfers catch early-morning waves. That’s usually when I sketch with Delilah, but we haven’t planned anything for the next few days, and honestly, maybe the distraction would be a good thing. It’s getting progressively harder to resist Delilah when we spend mornings together, and until she and I fall into a conversation that naturallytransitions into talking about guys or girls, I’m keeping my lips sealed. She’s got so much going on, and she never talks about hooking up with anyone. I know it’s the last thing on her mind.
    “Sure, but just so you know, I might suck.”
    “Or you might be awesome,” Drake says.
    We exchange numbers, and after Drake leaves, Brent convinces me that Drake is the greatest surf instructor aroundand a trustworthy guy, which is good, considering we plan to meet here after work and go to the party together. He’ll be a welcome distraction, much easier to handle than drooling over Delilah—or worse, accidentally on purpose kissing her.

Chapter Five
    ~Delilah~
    WHEN THE SUN goes down the temperature always drops, but tonight it’s cooler than normal—even so, I’m hot. Hot, hot, hot . I’ve been hot since I left Janessa’s last night. I’m all nervous energy and anxious anticipation. I hear Brandon’s band playing on the back deck, and I’m upstairs, pacing in my bedroom, waiting for Ashley to get here. I’m too nervous towait outside, because now that I know I’ll like kissing her, I can’t stop thinking about the possibility.
    I’m probably going to wear a path in the hardwood. I’ve been pacing for more than half an hour. My bedroom is spacious, so there’s a lot of room to pace. I love this bedroom, with the double bed and the futon over by the doors to the deck. I’m glad I moved back in. Nothing compares toliving right on the beach, and it’s easier to be here now than it was those first few nights when we arrived after my parents died. Back then I felt like their ghosts were everywhere. Maybe it’s because time has passed since they died, or maybe it’s because I spent several weeks living at Brooke’s and the memories had time to skitter away before I moved back. I don’t know, but it feels good to beback, and every day it feels more like home.
    I walk out the glass doors to the deck and look down at the people dancing and laughing on the beach. There are lots of people dancing on the deck while Brandon’s band plays. We live at the end of a private road, and the closest house is about half a block up the road. The beach is private as well, so we don’t have to worry about party crashersor bothering neighbors.
    Cassidy is taking pictures of the party—she’s always taking pictures. She’s been working with Brooke all summer at Brooke’s Bytes, and they just started a party-planning business. In addition to helping with the business side, Cassidy is the photographer for their events. I watch as Wyatt comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, and nuzzles against herneck. She puts the lens cap on her camera, and her long brown hair swings as she turns in his arms and presses her lips to his. I long for that. The ease of being in a real relationship with someone I care about. Being able to hold and kiss and nuzzle without the guilt of who I want to do those things with.
    I want that with Ashley.
    Brandon’s band starts another song and, thankfully, itnearly drowns out the guilt raging in my head. People begin to whoop at the song choice. I don’t know most of the people who are here, but this is