Easton Moore is back...and I'm his fake girlfriend.
After leaving for the professional surfing tour the morning after we slept together, my childhood best friend became the person I never wanted to see again. Now he strolls back into Sandy Cove when...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
AS SOON AS we are out of the car, Easton takes my hand.
Arriving at the beach for today's competition final, the atmosphere is electric. Spectators are already making their way down to the beach, a crowd forming to watch today's final. The media are ready to hound, gathering around us as soon as step out of the car and Easton is ready for them.
Keeping hold of his hand, he guides me through the line of reporters. He offers a comment here and there and smiles for them, but it is his practiced media smile.
Flashes go off, and cameras recording the final live are focused on us, showing the athletes as they arrive.
"I'll meet you up there," Easton says once we make it through the line of reporters, referring to the balcony where family, friends and girlfriends of the surfers will sit.
I nod my head, knowing Easton needs to go put his boards away and get changed.
Making my way up the stairs, I wave and say hello to a few of the regular people I have come across since being on tour with East.
"Gabriella Wilson?" someone asks, and I am confused as to who knows my full name on the tour.
Turning around, I see a woman holding a Dictaphone, and I immediately know she is a reporter. What I've learned is the reporters like to descend on me when Easton is not around, thinking they will catch me off guard.
"Can I help you?" I ask her.
"I'm a reporter for surfing world magazine and I was hoping to get an exclusive interview with you about your relationship with Easton Moore," she tells me, pointing the Dictaphone in my direction.
"Shouldn't a surfing magazine focus on surfing?" I ask her, raising my eyebrow and she shrugs unapologetically.
"Everyone is dying to learn more about your relationship," she tells me, wiggling the Dictaphone.
"Well, my answer to everything will be no comment. I won't speak about our relationship. It's private between me and Easton, and not something either of us will speak about unless we both agree," I tell her, shutting her down and I see Easton coming up the steps, looking around for me. His eyes land on me before the person in front of me. "Now if you'll excuse me."
I walk around her before she can respond and over to Easton, who looks over my shoulder before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to him.
"Reporter?" he asks, and I nod.
"Why do they always try to corner me when you're not around?" I ask him with a huff.
"It's their mistake, really. They don't realize you're the ruthless one," he says, and I snort. "Asking about our relationship?"
I nod. "Of course, and I told her my answer to everything was no comment. They're like vultures. They should be asking about your winning streak."
