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on.”
    “You just…lost the love.”
    He nodded, looking into her blue eyes.
    She put down her pen. “A year ago? Was that the same time we…” Suddenly, she glanced away, blinking rapidly as darkness furrowed her brow.
    Will knew exactly what she was thinking. Now that he considered it, when he’d decided to retire from professional surfing was about the same time he’d ended things with her. Because of the way he’d handled it, he’d been pissed off at himself, but until now, he hadn’t thought the two events were connected.
    They obviously were.
    “Off the record,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table between them, “Chase was my grandfather’s name. Ryder is what the guys called me when we were kids. It’s what I’ve always gone by here.”
    Justine’s pen hovered over her notebook. “Where did you grow up?”
    “Malibu. And that’s back on the record.”
    “So you’ve been surfing your whole life?” she asked, writing again. He was glad he’d pulled her away from what was making her sad.
    “Swimming before I could walk, but I didn’t pick up surfing ‘til I was twelve. My parents divorced and my mother moved here to Hawaii. I visited every summer vacation and for a month in the winter. The waves are amazing. I fell in love.”
    “Love,” she repeated.
    It was a sweet kind of torture—the way she looked, her loose hair blowing, the turquoise ocean her backdrop, the word “love” hanging off the lips he’d kissed. When he opened his mouth, he was tempted to say “stunning,” and then pull her onto his lap.
    But he wouldn’t revert to octopus mode. Justine was relaxed, maybe even trusting him again. A little. If he told her the truth about that night, maybe she would understand why he’d left. Maybe she’d even forgive him. He looked at her face, her blue eyes, remembering the fun they’d had together, and the first time he’d held her hand, the way she’d made his head buzz like he was sixteen again.
    The realization was like being hit on the head by a coconut.
    Justine had to forgive him. He wanted a second chance. Will always swore he would never do an interview, but if giving one to Justine might give him that chance…
    That’s one hell of a live volcano you want to climb , he told himself.
    She nibbled on her pen and laughed softly at one of the notes she was rereading. And suddenly, it wasn’t even a choice.
    So, Will balled his hands into fists under the table and answered more questions for her article. In the middle of telling her about his most recent trip to Australia, she laughed again.
    “What?”
    “You.” She pointed her pen at him. “Sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my brain around Chase being Will. You’re different, but…” Her eyes gazed away for a moment. “But the same. Huh, maybe it’s the tan.”
    He chuckled. “I am the same. Honestly, it’s not something I think about anymore. During the winter when I’m here or in South America, I’m Chase. I work my day job, but it’s mobile, so I can do both without warping my surf bum image.” He grinned. “In the summer when the Pacific is warmer, I’m in L.A. Most days, I go to meetings and appointments just like any working stiff.”
    While he spoke, he was trying very hard to ignore the devil on his shoulder who kept whispering that it was pretty dumbass to spill his life story to a reporter.
    “Well, this is great.” Justine leaned back in her chair, looking chill and completely at home with the sky and beach behind her. The one-hour interview she’d asked for had stretched to two hours, and Will had barely noticed. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” she added. “I hope it wasn’t too painful.”
    “I’d like to say it was out of the kindness of my big heart, but we both know that’s not true.”
    “I wish I could apologize for that, but…” She slid a finger across her notebook, then tapped her nails. “Leading this story with how you have two separate lives is