Chapter 16

sixteen

SUNRISE CONFESSIONS

C hristmas morning can’t get any better than last night did.

I’m still riding a high from finding out I’ll be joining everyone else at Westbrook next year. It almost feels like I dreamed the whole thing up. Like it’s too good to be true.

My excitement makes it hard to even sleep and I’m the first person awake. I check the time, but it’s still way too early to wake anyone else up. I flop back in bed, covering my face with my pillow as I squeal into it.

What even is life?

I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever been this happy.

The only thing that could make it better was if my mom was here to celebrate with us. Her absence felt heavier all night last night. When my dad looked through the photo book I had made for him, to opening my acceptance letter. I felt the loss of her in every second, bigger and more painful than the dull ache it has receded to over the years.

I miss her.

Throwing the pillow off my bed, I crawl out of bed. There’s one place where I always feel my mom more than anywhere else. The whole reason we started coming to the island to celebrate Christmas every year.

It only takes a few minutes to get dressed in my bathing suit and pull my wet suit on over it. The boys put my board in the garage for me yesterday after I left it with them. The whole process of waxing my board helps calm my racing thoughts, helping me find tranquility as I remember when my mom first taught me how to do this.

She was always the fire to my dad’s ice. The warmth and light of our family. The surfer to our dad’s hockey player. I’ve always taken more after her in that regard. I enjoy being on the ice, but not the same way my brothers or dad do.

The beach feels like my home. The salty air and cool breeze against my heated skin from the sun beating down on me.

I carry my board down to the beach, and maybe if I had been paying more attention I would have noticed another board missing, but I was too lost in my own thoughts. It isn’t until I’m nearly to the water’s edge I notice Xander as he sits in the sand, his board at his side while he stares out at the waves crashing on the sand.

He doesn’t even look my way, somehow already knowing it’s me. “You aren’t supposed to come out alone, brat.”

I crinkle my nose in protest, plopping into the sand next to him. “Maybe I knew you were out here.”

“Liar,” he calls me out, flicking my thigh.

Something about the early hours, dawn not quite approaching yet makes me brave. I lean my head against his shoulder, feeling safe in the comfort of darkness. He moves his arm back to shift me closer to him without wrapping his arm fully around me.

“I wanted to talk to my mom,” I admit, my voice thick with my grief.

His head leans against the top of mine. “Me too,” he admits, taking me by surprise. “Telling you how proud she would be of you doesn’t feel like enough, Em. But fuck, I know she would be overcome with joy to see the woman you are now.”

Tears fill my eyes at his words. My dad tells me all the time, told me almost the exact same thing just last night, but somehow it feels different coming from Xander. “She would be really proud of you too, Xander.”

He shrugs, jostling me but I settle right back against his side.

“She would be,” I say again with conviction. “She would have been absolutely beside herself to have all three of you on the same team. Can you imagine her meeting the others?”

That gets a chuckle out of him, because my mom would have attempted to adopt the whole team as our family. She would have loved watching Baylor and Torryn slowly realize their feelings for each other, and she’d mercilessly tease Beau and Tate about their bromance on the ice and enjoy riling up Zac and Wilder as much as I do.

“She would be our biggest fan,” he agrees. “I think a lot of things would have been different if she was still with us,” he admits and something about those words tug on my heart. His tone giving away he means more than just in the obvious ways.

“She would have never let me pull away from you guys.”

I snort. That is an indisputable fact. “She would have shown up at Everleigh and dragged you out by your ear if she had to.”

His hand moves closer to me, his thumb gently rubbing against my hip. “Maybe I never would have ended up at Everleigh at all.”

It’s interesting to think about. We probably never would have moved if my mom hadn’t died. We only left to try and get a fresh start away from the pain that cut like a knife each and every day we woke up in the house we grew up in to find our mom not there.

My dad may have never taken the job offer if we hadn’t lost her that year. But we were all ready to grieve somewhere new. As much as it hurt to let go of that house and the memories we made there. Living in them was even more painful for all of us.

“We may never have ended up at Westbrook at all,” I counter. Tate only chose this school to stay close to me. Zac followed in his footsteps because as much as he denies it, he looks up to our older brother. Seeks his approval in every choice he makes. Not that I can judge.

Xander shakes his head. “Nah, those guys were the family we were meant to find. We would have found each other one way or another.”

His use of “we” makes my heart flutter and my stomach dip. I struggle with the feeling that I feel like a part of them, but I’m not. I’m still just a kid in high school. But now…well now I really will be a part of them next year.

“You think so?” I ask, not wanting to admit how much it means to me he even included me in it.

He nods and he wraps his arms firmly around my waist, no longer holding himself back. “I know so.” His breath fans over my hair, and I feel the brush of his lips at the top of my head. “Congratulations by the way. I’m astounded by your talent and I know Westbrook will be too. They don’t realize how lucky they are to have you. Yet.”

My whole body grows warm despite the slight chill still in the air. He remembered what I wrote in my note. Does this mean those words meant as much to him as they do to me now? As cocky and arrogant as Xander can be, he’s never truly believed in himself the way I believe in him. He’s always felt he’s the lucky one to have us, not the other way around. As if he didn’t deserve all the love my parents gave him .

It’s why he insists on still calling my dad Mr. Moore, but I think my dad would prefer to have him call him dad instead. He thinks of Xander as one of his own, whether or not he will ever realize it.

I tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. “Thanks, Alexander.”

His eyes darken at the use of his full name and I love that look on him. Like he’d be willing to burn down the world for me if only I asked.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” he whispers, his lips so close to my own.

“You love it,” I say, running my tongue over my lips and watching the way he tracks it.

He leans in and I close my eyes, not knowing what I’m expecting but holding my breath anyways. His soft lips press a kiss against my cheek and it fills me with a longing I can’t put into words. I open my eyes and he pulls away, bopping me on the nose.

The sun is just starting to crest, dawn finally breaking around us, shattering the little bubble we’ve been living in.

“Ready?” he asks, squeezing my hip before he stands to his feet and nods to the ocean.

I jump to my own feet, grinning. “Always.”

We head into the water together, not in a rush to catch the best waves but to enjoy the peace I only ever find in the ocean. We sit astride our boards, past the waves where the water feels deceptively calm and watch the sunrise together, trading stories about my mom.

The sky turns from a deep purple to pinks and yellows and finally a light blue as the sun slowly ascends the horizon. It captivates the both of us as we watch its progress. I touch the sun pendant that hangs around my neck, safely tucked under my wetsuit .

Xander catches the motion and gives me one of his soft, almost shy smiles. “Do you know why I picked the sun?”

I shake my head, worried speaking may break the moment and he may never tell me.

He hesitates like he knows he shouldn’t say it, but as his eyes flick back to the sunrise, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. A breeze ruffles through our hair and some of the chill of the night begins to clear.

“Because you’re like the sun to me, Emery Moore. Everything good and bright and natural. You light me up inside and out, making me burn for you and crave the comfort of your heat on my skin. You shine so goddamn brilliantly, I never want to look away and risk missing even a second of your light. And just like the sun, I know I could never live without you.”

My heart stops in my chest as emotions clog my throat because that sounded a hell of a lot like a confession.

I’ve never felt more desired or seen in my life than I do with Xander, but before I can respond and tell him how I feel, his attention snaps to the shore and he waves.

No.

“Xander,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his face full of emotion and longing, but his hand squeezes my thigh. “You don’t have to say anything, Em. Just keep being my sunshine.”

My brothers reach us, and I don’t get the chance to tell Xander that I may be his sunshine, but he’s my ocean. He makes me stronger, braver, tougher and gives me peace and comfort. He protects me and makes me feel safe. And no matter how scary it is, I will tell him before the end of this trip. Even if this wasn’t the right moment, I’ll carve one out for us and maybe finally give ourselves a shot.

My brothers both have the same melancholy looks on their faces that Xander and I were wearing this morning. Memories of our mom hovering so close to the surface as they always do when we’re here. The beach house she grew up in and where she taught us so many things on these shores.

The four of us lay out on our boards in a loose circle, watching the sky and island wake up. We easily fall into memories of our childhood, sharing different stories about our mom and tears spill down my cheeks. But they don’t feel sad this year. I can almost feel my mom all around us, giving us courage and strength.

As the sun fully rises above the horizon, my dad also makes his way out. He hardly ever surfs with us, never really getting the hang of the sport, no matter how many times my mom tried to teach him. He really only ever comes out on Christmas morning, usually for only one wave in honor of our mom.

We talk for a few minutes enjoying the sun as it rises further in the sky before my dad announces he’s heading back to shore.

I bite my lip to hold back the laugh at his nervous expression.

“Don’t drown,” Zac rags and my dad flips him off.

“It’s not too late for me to take your presents back.”

Despite our mocking, my dad makes it safely back to shore. He wouldn’t score any points for style or even stability, but he makes it back and waves us in. I follow him first, dropping into a small wave and getting to my feet on my board. Happiness fills me as the wind rushes against my face and water splashes at my legs.

As soon as I get back to the sand, I don’t wait for the boys. Knowing them, they’ll waste plenty of good waves, waiting for the perfect one and then fight over who gets it. They’ll probably be getting in when I’m done with my shower and getting breakfast ready.

My dad walks with me, grabbing my board and carrying it back to the garage for me. “I see so much of your mom in you, M&M.”

I’ll never get tired of being compared to my mom. “I miss her.”

“I know, sweetheart. I do too. But she’s watching over us. I can feel it.”

I think about those moments on the water where I swear the breeze feels like her caressing my cheek and the smell of the sand and ocean reminds me of her. “I think so too.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

He winks at me as he heads to the garage and I turn to the back door and into the mud room where I strip out of my wetsuit and leave it hanging to dry before heading straight for my bathroom. There’s no sign Colby or Wilder are awake yet so I don't have to worry about there not being any hot water left.

As I expected, I’m already in the kitchen putting the cinnamon rolls in the oven when the boys walk in and head straight to their rooms.

Colby comes from our side of the house, her hair falling out of the braid she slept with and her eyes still bleary with sleep. “Merry Christmas,” she greets. “Why do you look so,” she pauses, looking me up and down, “awake?”

“We went surfing this morning,” I explain, making her a cup of coffee.

She yawns, pushing some of the loose curls out of her face. “Are you sure you aren’t part mermaid?”

I laugh, putting her coffee in front of her and not answering her question. I get started on making the bacon and sausage and the smell draws everyone else to the kitchen. Wilder somehow even more sleep rumpled than Colby. He sits at her side and leans against her shoulder and she begins running her fingers through his hair like he’s her pet. I guess he kind of is, in a way.

Tate steps in and starts making coffee for everyone else while I finish up and pull the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Our Christmas morning is always a lot less formal than our Christmas Eve dinner. We each make our own plates, grab our coffees and sit on the floor and couches in the living room, opening presents my dad still signs from Santa. Even for Colby, Xander, and Wilder.

It’s the perfect holiday and thinking about my mom no longer hurts after sharing so many memories of her. I’ll always miss her, but it’s easy to smile when I think about her watching over us now.

As we’re cleaning up from our presents and breakfast, my dad’s phone rings and a smile splits his face. Instantly, I know something is up.

“That should be your last present getting here.”

“More?” Tate asks incredulously. And same. My dad never holds back when it comes to spoiling us, but I can’t imagine what else he could have gotten us. Though nothing has beaten the acceptance letter and cake he gave me last night.

I had been doing my best to not think about it, knowing it was likely to be sitting in our mailbox at home waiting for us to get back. My nerves were really starting to get the best of me. But the way he told me made it even more special.

A knock sounds at the door and I have the ludicrous thought about him doing something ridiculous like fulfilling our childhood dreams of owning ponies. He wouldn’t do that. Right?

I look to Tate for answers but he looks as concerned as I do.

Please not ponies, Dad. I have no idea what I would do with a horse .

The door opens before any of us have a chance to open it and it’s not a horse.

It's half the hockey team.

Surprised laughter eddies out of me as Beau throws the door open, singing carols, Baylor attempting to harmonize with him and Torryn staring at both of them like she’s questioning her life choices while she carries Potato who’s wearing a little Santa outfit. The rest of the crew behind them.

“This isn’t a present, it’s a punishment,” Tate mutters, but he’s smiling in his exasperation.