Spring Tide (Coastal University Book 1)

The beach never used to be my favorite place. The coarse scratching of sand on my thighs. The grainy, unnerving squish between my toes. The ice-cold salt water splashing in my eyes.

It was pure torture. Until one day, it wasn’t.

I remember it so vividly, that summer day when I turned sixteen. It was the day I decided that the beach was my salvation.

It all started with a boy, of course. A much older boy who gave me my first kiss. An innocent game of truth or dare in the basement of his parents’ house. But then that dreamy college freshman, the one who spouted empty promises, would end up sleeping with someone else.

And I would end up crying on the beach alone, wondering where I went wrong.

Until the moment I saw them—the electric-blue waves that lit up Cape Casserat. It was natural bioluminescence, a rare sea sparkle caused by microscopic plankton. But for me, in that silent crestfallen moment, it was pure fucking magic.

I’ll never forget the way I felt that night, staring out at the bright blue shore. The truth, my undeniable truth, hit me like a tidal wave. This life is too damn good, too beautiful, to cry over greasy boys with sloppy tongues.

I didn’t grow bitter that night. I didn’t lose my faith in relationships or decide that boys simply aren’t worth my time. Rather, I learned that it’s okay to like something and then lose it. To love and then let go. Because something beautiful, something brilliant, is waiting just around the corner.

Now, six years later, I still carry that little piece of wisdom with me. Instead of tucking her away in a spare corner of my heart, I wear her proudly.

“Heads up, Harper!”

My gaze cuts to the left, arms raised to catch a wayward volleyball. It sits heavy in my hands as I turn it over. My heart sputters, fingers drumming in time against the patchwork leather, a quick repetition of three soft beats.

So I guess he does know my name. Nate Gunderson, Coastal U’s star baseball player and sunshine in human form. The curly-haired senior who spent his summer hanging out at Amber Isle: playing volleyball, drinking beers, and tanning those glorious abs.

My bare, sand-covered toes tap against my lifeguard stand. Nearly giddy with anticipation, I straighten my posture as he approaches, his lips turning up in a genuine smile.

“Nice catch, Harps,” he says, charming me with a casual nod of his head.

Oh wait, was that a nickname?

“Thanks for the warning,” I chirp back, gazing down at him. “I probably wouldn’t have caught it, but I was watching you play. I mean, not you specifically—your friends.” My fingers nervously twitch against the ball. “You guys come here a lot.”

His grin widens. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the water?”

“Oh!” My knee is bouncing now, cheeks tightening with an unabashed smile. “I can watch both. I’m a great multitasker.”

“I bet you are.” His palms raise, fingers slightly curled as I toss him the ball. “You think you could take a break, though? Join us on the court?”

“My shifts are only four hours,” I confess, one palm flattened against my shaking knee. “I’m not allowed to take breaks, really. But thank you for the invite.”

“Sure thing, Harper,” he says with a wink.

An actual wink. Nate Gunderson, my junior summer crush, has just winked at me. Or, at least, I think it was a wink. Maybe he was blinking away a piece of sand. Either way, he clearly knows who I am now.

I’m pretty sure that’s the first step to any great love story.

These days, I find myself falling for a new boy for breakfast and then forgetting his name by dinner. I’m not afraid to lean into a fleeting infatuation. But when it comes to Nate, there’s something about him that draws me deeper.

In public, he’s always smiling, always joking, always radiating positivity. But I think, behind closed doors, there might be something hidden there. Something in his spirit that resonates with mine.

This term, I’m determined to prove myself right. To find out, once and for all, if Nate Gunderson is worth pining for.

It’s dusk by the time my shift is over. Although it’s only seven o’clock, a tiny sliver of moonlight peeks through the gray-blue sky. The waves are quiet tonight. Slow, steady, a sweet, lulling swoosh at low tide.

I soak it all in before padding over to the Surfbreak Grill, the one and only restaurant on Amber Isle. It may be kind of a dive, but it’s located right beside the Boyer Inlet Pier. I suppose convenience, and good-ass burgers, are their only keys to success.

Oh, and I may be biased, but their staff is pretty top-notch.

“Hey, Stell,” I call, scooching my way onto the outdoor patio.

Stella Reilly, my roommate and my best friend, has been a waitress here as long as I’ve been a lifeguard—three whole summers and counting. I’ll never forget that fateful June night when we first met. Stella indulged in a little too much gin after her first double shift and I held her hair back as she retched into the ocean.

It was a tumultuous start to a beautiful friendship.

“Hey, babes, I brought you an outfit from home.” She beams at me, swiping a rag over the six-top between us. “It’s in my bag behind the bar.”

“I have a change of clothes in the beach hut.”

“Yeah, but these are party clothes, Harper.” Her lips lift in a teasing grin. “You know, something tight and sexy.”

“It’s a beach bonfire. Cool and comfy seems more up to speed.”

“You’re right. Why don’t you just throw on a new bikini and call it a day?”

I glance down at my uniform, a tight red one-piece and tiny drawstring shorts. “It gets a little cold out there,” I say, an unwelcome shiver dotting up my spine.

“Yeah, that’s when you get some lucky guy or girl to warm you up.” Her eyebrows wiggle. “Speaking of, we really should’ve invited Nate to this.”

“Stella!” I chide.

My gaze darts around the empty patio, scanning for any stragglers who may have overheard. Fortunately, everyone seems to have cleared out for the night. The Surfbreak Grill is closing early, for once, a welcome reprieve as they host their annual End-of-Summer Bash.

“What?” Her brow crinkles. “Is it some big secret now? That’s not the Harper I know.”

“Yeah, but I think this might be an actual crush,” I quietly explain. “Like, the kind where I get to know the real person and not just the one I created in my head.”

She laughs, tucking her dirty rag into the front of her apron. “Oh wow, you mean Nate gets to be a real boy?”

My lips crack with a smile. “Only if he proves himself to be brave, truthful, and unselfish.”

“Alright, Blue Fairy. Let’s—”

A loud boom cuts her short, the unexpected sound ricocheting off the pier. The two of us turn our heads, gazes snapping to the source. Ah, there’s Luca Reynolds, tossing hundred-pound crates around like they’re nothing.

Luca’s a fellow Coastal U student and well-renowned football player. He’s also worked at Amber Isle for years now, but our paths have barely intersected. On weekend nights, when we all stick around to celebrate, Luca slips silently into the night.

He never stays back, never lingers. It’s like the idea doesn’t even cross his mind.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Stell, do you think Reynolds was invited tonight?”

She snorts, gathering trash from the bin. “He’d have to talk to someone to be invited.”

“Okay,” I say, cautiously stepping over the patio divider. “I’m gonna see if he wants to come, then.”

She gives me a wide-eyed glance, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Good luck.”

My feet quickly carry me across the worn and weathered slats of the pier. There’s a gentle pep in my step as I approach Luca, a tiny buzz of excitement bubbling in my stomach.

“Hey, Reynolds!”

His head tilts in response, a barely perceptible nod. I pause for a beat, unsure of what I’m waiting for.

“The staff at Surfbreak are hosting a bonfire tonight,” I continue, breaking through the stilted silence. “Us lifeguards will be there, too. Would you like to join?”

His features instantly pull tight, almost as if he’s holding back a wince. Unprompted, he schools his expression, a careful retreat back to a blank canvas. “I have some other plans.”

“Oh, alright,” I murmur. “Something with the football team?”

“Nope.”

He carries on stacking his gear, pulling some twisted line from a fishing rod. It takes him a few quiet seconds to wrangle them into the correct place. With a displeased grunt and no further acknowledgment, he tosses the fixed rods into a separate pile.

“You don’t really spend much time with them, do you?”

“The team?” he clarifies, finally meeting my gaze. “We have practice almost every day.”

“Right, practice,” I echo. “I meant, outside of practice. You know, on the weekends and stuff?”

He shuffles some more gear around before he says, “I have work to do.”

“Oh, okay.” I press my palms together, offering a smile. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

With a tiny sigh, he shakes his head. “I meant, I have work whenever I’m not at practice.”

“I guess I didn’t realize you worked that much,” I say, genuine surprise coloring my tone. “That’s pretty admirable, actually. I’ve been working a lot this past summer, but I’ll cut back to weekends once the term starts. Then, come November, lifeguarding won’t really be an option anymore.”

“Hm,” he grunts out a nonresponse.

I pause, waiting for something more. But nope, that’s it. That’s all he has to say.

I try again, hopelessly attempting to elicit a small sliver of information. “Do you plan on working during the school term?”

He bends forward, brows pinched together as he lifts the crate. “Yep.”

Okay, now that was definitely a wince.

“Alright.” I give him a gentle smile, finally picking up on his not-so-subtle hints. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry you can’t make it tonight. I’ll see you around, Reynolds.”

I take one step back before he stops me in my tracks. “Hold up a second.”

“What’s up?”

He brushes his palms down the front of his jeans and says, “It’s Luca.”

“What?”

“The name,” he clarifies, tipping his chin. “Call me Luca.”

“Oh, definitely.” I take a careful step forward, right arm jutting out as I reach for his hand. Once the initial shock wears off, his fingers wrap around mine for two quick shakes. “I’m Harper, by the way. Harper St. James. I’m glad we’ve finally met, although I feel like I’ve known you for a while now.”

He stares back, eyes locked on mine. There’s no instant spark of recognition in his gaze. No subtle upward curving of his lips. It’s just him, plain and bold, leveling me with an open stare.

“Well, see ya, Luca.”

He nods. I slowly pull back. My brain threatens to betray me, so I pinch my lips together, fighting to keep my wandering thoughts at bay.

I’m dying to ask him what he’s really doing tonight, why he never seems to hang out with anyone, how he manages to juggle football practice and work and school. All of it. But he seems so shy, so hesitant to meet new people and break free from his shell.

So I don’t ask him anything. Instead, I leave it at that, filing away the endless stream of questions for another day.

By the time I’ve wandered back to the patio, Stella’s already finished stacking the chairs. She’s sweeping now, carelessly swiping at the floor as she jams out to King Princess.

“How’d it go?” she asks, tossing her broom behind the bar.

“Good,” I say earnestly. “It went good, I think.”

Her brows shoot up. “So, he’s coming?”

“Um, no.” I nibble at my lower lip. “He’s busy tonight, but he did talk to me. You know, just a little bit.”

“Shocking,” she snickers.

“I think he’s just shy, honestly.”

“I doubt he’s shy, babe. Reynolds is a D1 football player.” She moves behind the bar, scrubbing her hands in the sink before tossing a beach tote over one shoulder. “He probably thinks he’s above it all.”

I glance back toward the pier, squinting in the darkness until I can make out the shape of him. “I think you might be wrong.”

She moves closer, slinging an arm around me. “I think you just like to be right.”

“Okay, now that part might be true.”

“It’s all part of your charm, Blue Fairy.” She laughs, the soft sound warming me from the inside out. “Come on now. Let’s go get pretty.”