Testing the Waters

By Kathryn Bea

Thanks to her brother's new wife, Hayley's got two months of Greek-island paradise stretching out before her, and she has discovered an unexpected passion for ocean sports. Halfway through her week of windsurfing classes, though, a new instructor arrives. Unfortunately, Hayley can't stop making a fool of herself with Alex, even when he seems to want to spend time with her. After a humiliating night out, Hayley decides to avoid him at all costs. When he shows up to a family dinner, however, she discovers that her brother's wife is Alex's sister.

Alex and Hayley negotiate a truce, and their friendship blossoms over days of outdoor adventures. Which is a good thing, because Alex doesn't get serious about romance. Because Hayley will go back to the States in just a few weeks. Because Alex sets her up with a cute buddy of his. Because friendship is better than stupid physical attraction. Right? Right.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Sep 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781094423548

Book preview

Chapter One

I jogged down the narrow road, fearing I would be late. To my left was a row of adorable shops and cafés painted in varying shades of salmon, pink, and white that made me constantly crave sherbet. To my right was a narrow stretch of white sand and the most gorgeous turquoise water I’d ever seen. It was the textbook definition of paradise.

Looking around, it was hard to believe that just ten days ago I’d been cleaning out my dusty chemistry classroom back in Sacramento. Not when I had two glorious months of a Greek summer spread out before me. I still had to occasionally pinch myself. I really owed my brother for marrying well. Actually, he owed me since he hadn’t invited any of us to the secret wedding two months ago. I guess that made us even.

A long three minutes later, I cut across the beach, heading for the little gathering of bathing-suit-clad people waiting on the edge of the sea. There were seven of them, an eclectic bunch, standing next to a row of long white boards adorned with brightly colored sails. I was out of breath by the time I reached them, so I waved a cheerful greeting to my fellow students. I had thus far been the quiet one, so my newfound enthusiasm caused a few strange looks. I didn’t mind their reactions though. It had taken me till today’s lesson, our fourth, to finally get excited; and now that I was, nothing was going to bring me down.

I’d chosen windsurfing on a lark, not expecting much to come of it. Although I was a strong swimmer, I was not the most coordinated person in the world, and I pretty much assumed it would end in disaster. Of all the activities featured on the stack of brochures I had procured, it looked the most fun. Having little to lose, I signed up for a package of six sessions. If nothing else, it gave me a compelling reason to leave the house. There were only so many times you could watch your brother suck face with his new wife before you wanted to vomit. It was the worst third-wheel situation ever. Well, maybe not the worst, considering the location of my sister-in-law’s house, but I would have done anything to escape for a few hours — including committing to learning a random sport that I knew absolutely nothing about.

The first two sessions had been unsurprisingly rocky, and I almost gave up several times. But our instructor, Philip, was endlessly patient and encouraging with me. He was my father’s age, tan and weathered, more than a little hairy, and absolutely hilarious. Every time I fell off the board or failed to heft the mast, he yelled one of his many motivational sayings at me — with his thick accent I barely understood him, but somehow it worked. It wasn’t until the second lesson that I realized his mantras weren’t some deeply profound ancient Greek wisdom, but rather the stuff you find on dish towels or decorative wooden signs. At that point it just amused me, so I kept getting back up on the board.

And then yesterday, a miracle occurred! Halfway through the lesson, I finally got the hang of it. It just clicked. From that first moment I started cruising, I was totally sold! It was so freeing — flying across the surf, wind in my air, sun on my skin. I nearly hugged Philip when I got back to dry land but restrained myself. And I was so elated when I got home I didn’t even mock Dom for the gross nicknames he called Iris in my presence.

The best part was, once I finished the last three lessons I would be certified! That meant I could start renting the equipment from the company and go out whenever I wanted. I wouldn’t have to find a new way to occupy myself after the program ended; I could stick with my exciting new hobby. By the end of summer, I would be a pro. Or close enough.

We were still waiting to start the next lesson, which was supposed to happen five minutes ago. I had been the last to arrive, yet Philip was nowhere to be seen. We’d always started right on time. He was exceedingly punctual for someone who lived on an island that eschewed clocks and schedules of all kinds, so this was odd.

As the minutes ticked by and he still failed to appear, everyone got increasingly restless. I overheard grumblings about the possibility that he was going to be a no-show. No one was quite sure what we were supposed to do or how long we were supposed to wait. A few of the other students had limited time on the island, so they wouldn’t be able to make up the class if we had to reschedule. Luckily, I didn’t have that particular concern, but my good mood was slowly evaporating. I was so ready to get out there now that I kind of knew what I was doing. Leaving would be a huge disappointment.

By general consensus, we decided to give him five more minutes, and then we’d get a hold of the company for an update. Three minutes in, we got an update, albeit from an unexpected source.

Sorry guys. I’m here now! a faint voice drifted down to us. As one, we turned and looked toward the mysterious caller. I lifted my hand to block the sun and squinted. Slowly, the shape came into focus. There was a guy in navy-blue board shorts and a white T-shirt running down the beach toward us. A guy that was most definitely not Philip. Not even a passing resemblance. No, this guy was closer to my age: tall and tan with wavy, dirty-blond hair. And he was gorgeous.

Holy shit, I heard the girl next to me mutter. Her name was Lana, and from what I had gleaned over the last three lessons, the tiny blonde was an extremely boy-crazy college student from Vancouver. She had lamented about the lack of hot guys during our first class and told me about the random backpacker she recently hooked up with during our second. So normally I took her statements with a grain of salt.

I had to agree with her most recent assessment though. It was like a real-life Baywatch moment — the guy was that hot. I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but I didn’t care much either. I had all summer to windsurf, and I was much more interested in this new development.

The guy jogged the whole way, only stopping when he reached us. And he wasn’t even breathing hard like I had been. Impressive, yet highly unfair.

As you can see, I’m not Philip, he said, smiling at each of us.

No kidding, Lana whispered, and I had to stifle my snort. Unfortunately, her aside made me miss the new guy saying his name. Crap. He’d already moved on and was talking about Philip getting held up by something or other. There was a collective groan from the group at that news. No one wanted our session to be canceled; it was an absolutely perfect day. Sunny, but with a strong wind.

Don’t worry. We’re still going to have the class. I’m going to be taking over today. I hope that’s okay with all of you. I don’t have as much experience as Philip, but I’ve been doing this a long time. You’re in good hands, he said as he started passing out the little half-life jackets we had to wear.

This time I didn’t even need to wait — I knew exactly what Lana was going to say.

Yeah, I’d like to be in those hands, she said under her breath, causing us both to giggle.

I blamed the hot Mediterranean sun and my lackluster love life for my reaction. I’d been out of college for years now, so I didn’t have her excuse. In fact, I was responsible for shaping young minds. But I was clearly regressing. I was behaving as badly as my sixteen- and seventeen-year-old students. I couldn’t help myself.

We kept laughing, causing the new guy to shoot us a quizzical look. I felt my face warm. Busted. I kept my head down while I buckled and adjusted my life jacket. Once I was done, I was moderately composed again.

Wait. Before we get out there, why don’t we do quick introductions? I’ll need to be able to get your attention for corrections or in case of an emergency. He pointed at the couple on the far side of our makeshift circle, indicating that they should start, which meant I would be last.

One by one my classmates started telling him their names and where they were from. At the same time that was happening, our instructor started getting ready for the water. He’d apparently gotten sent over at the last minute,

Reviews for Testing the Waters

[Tana Jenkins · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a super cute story, really gave me all the feels. To be honest, initially the characters felt a little young for me but their rich relationship was so well rendered that I was drawn in and very glad I read til the end. Good, humorous dialogue and fantastic setting depiction. Definitely recommend.