Just as he reached the sweet spot of his ride, Zach did the unthinkable. Taking a deep breath to fill his lungs, he murmured, “I’m sorry,” apologizing to the sea for breaking this perfect fusion, and purposefully pushed too hard on one edge of the board.
The fiberglass caught and instantly flung both Zach and the board into the curl of the wave at forty miles per hour. Up, up, over, slam. The monster hammered him into the surf, forcing a hot spear of pain through his bad shoulder and a grunt from his lungs. Zach kept his mouth clamped tight, holding on to his air. He’d need it for the frenzy that followed.
He tumbled, tumbled, tumbled, a leaf in a hurricane. Zach did his best to relax into the roll to avoid wasting his energy. The pain subsided, and his thoughts crisscrossed the way they always did when he wiped out. Why the hell was he doing this? Was this really how he should be spending his life? Wasn’t there something more purposeful he should be pursuing beyond sun, surf, sand, and sex?
They were his father’s words, not his own. Yet whenever he wiped out or got a glimpse of the Grim Reaper—which happened more often than he’d like in this profession—Zach always questioned his choices.
Just when his lungs started to burn, the spin slowed. As usual, he had no idea which way was up, so he grabbed for his ankle, found the tether of his board, and climbed it as fast as his body would take him. Within seconds, the water’s deep turquoise thinned to light blue, then white, and the choppy surface drifted into sight. Zach relaxed a little and let momentum lift him to the surface. By the time his head broke through the waves, his shoulder burned as badly as his lungs.
He shook the water out of his face and took a deep breath while immediately assessing the waves. And found another beast bearing down on him. Zach flung an arm over his board and duck-dived beneath the surface, saving himself from the brunt of the impact
as he swam underwater until the turbulence passed.
When he popped to the surface again, he was between waves and Joe waited nearby on the Sea-Doo. He swam to the Jet Ski, relieved to realize the pain in his shoulder had subsided—for the most part.
“Wicked wipeout.” Joe offered his hand, and Zach used his good arm to leverage himself onto the machine.
“Thanks…I think.” Laughing at himself, Zach hiked the board under his arm.
On the way to shore, Zach rolled his shoulder a few times. A familiar crunch touched his ear, and his anxiety amped. Since Ian had gone on national television and told the world he was taking a movie deal, there had been hints and murmurs about Zach being considered for his replacement, but nothing solid. The crunch in his shoulder joint made Zach hope something materialized soon.
He jumped off in knee-deep water and made his way up the sand toward the gaggle of crew clustered around Shawn and his camera playback screen. The group included Jax Chamberlin, the owner of Renegades Stunt Company. He and his girl, Lexi, had flown in that morning for a quick vacation. Zach’s agent, Marshall Kingston, was also looking over the playback. Just beyond the group, Lexi was chatting with Tucker, Josh, and Grace.
The boat carrying Keith and the film crew neared the shore.
“Zach,” Keith called. “Hold up.”
He stopped to wait for the director, muttering, “Shit” under his breath and rolling his shoulder one more time. This was one of those rare moments he might have to tell them he couldn’t take “just one more run” for the cameras. Shitty timing to look like a slacker.
“Fan-fucking-tastic, Zach,” Keith said, jumping from the boat. “Wait until you see that on film.” He drew near, slapped Zach on the shoulder, then continued up the beach with him. “I’m telling you, fan-fucking-tastic.”
Halle-fucking-lujah. “Great. I’m glad.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice falling a notch. “I’m sure you’ve heard there’s a little buzz going on about Ian and his part. If he didn’t leave at the end of the season, we were going to kick him to the curb. Your name has been floating around the cogs for months as his replacement. I’m pullin’ for you, kid. I really want to see you in his spot. The fans would eat you up.”
A whole new kind of buzz lightened Zach’s mood. “Thanks, Keith, I appreciate that.”
“You’ve earned it, kid. You work your ass off out there. Don’t think we don’t notice. You may need to do some training during the off-season if they want you. You know, a cop school to teach you how to hold a weapon, how to breach buildings, other protocols, that sort of thing. How do you feel about that?”
“Sounds fun. Where? Here?”
“No. LA.”
Even better. “Not a problem.”
When they neared the others, Keith smiled and gave Zach’s shoulder another slap. “Good to hear. You get some rest tonight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Zach stood back from the crowd a few yards as Keith passed the others on his way up the beach, calling, “Don’t break your eyeballs. We got everything we could ever need from the boat. Wrap for the day.”
Jax offered Zach a grin and a thumbs-up.
He continued toward the crew, and Lexi met him halfway, offering a hug.
“I’m all wet, Lex.”
“I don’t care. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. When she let go, she grinned at him with an excited spark in her clear blue eyes. “I think you’ve got great news coming your way.”