My F*cked Up Paradise

The vacation was supposed to drive my career. Not drive me into the arms of a surfer with a bad attitude and a worse reputation.

Three weeks in paradise. Ten photos for my portfolio. Seems easy enough. Well, it’s not.

The airline lost my camera bag, my hotel is a dump, oh, and did I mention I nearly drowned? The locals say I’m lucky to be alive. And I owe it all to the heavily tattooed surfer with a blood-curdling scowl.

Forget him. I have bigger problems. My photos suck—no better than a tourist with a smartphone. I lost my mojo.

I’m hoping a stay on the North Shore will spark my artistry. To my surprise, it’s the grumpy surfer who awakens my imagination.

I don’t want to need him, but I do. Risking my pride, I beg for his help.

He saw the warning signs. He knew I was falling for him. And he could’ve saved me from heartbreak and humiliation. All he needed to do is tell me the one thing that would’ve changed everything.

The truth.