Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf Series)

by Godwin, Nikki

  Of course I’ve realized. “I’m sorry. I was just…”

  “Trying to be nice,” Vin finishes. “It’s cool. I know. So, Topher’s room is down the hall. Bathroom is pretty much across the hall. Kitchen and living room are back the way we came. If you need anything, wake me up. Don’t hesitate, okay?”

  I nod to keep from saying something else that could possibly insult him. He still lingers, just a minute longer, then finally says good night and heads to the living room.

  Unlike Crescent Cove, you can’t hear the ocean late at night in Horn Island. Instead there are car alarms, barking dogs, and that damn creaky couch in the living room. It looked old and worn, and I bet Vin is feeling every spring in the cushions each time he tosses and turns…which is a lot. At this rate, neither of us will get any sleep before the competition tomorrow, and he needs it more than I do.

  I push myself out of his bed, which doesn’t squeak every time I move thankfully, and let the streetlight pouring through the window serve as my path to the bedroom door.

  “Vin,” I half-say half-whisper, just in case I dozed off for a minute and Topher came in earlier.

  “Yeah?” he calls back.

  “Come here,” I reply.

  The couch croaks out a battle cry or two, and then I hear footsteps. When Vin steps into the doorway of his bedroom, he looks more defeated than the day of the storm. It’s the most innocent I’ve ever seen him – white Strickland’s Boating T-shirt, black boxers, unspiked hair, and sleepy eyes. He reminds me of Topher. And gosh, I hate saying he looks unbelievably cute.

  “Everything okay?” he asks. He attempts to fight a yawn, but it’s useless. He’s exhausted.

  I pull him into his bedroom and shut the door. “You’re not sleeping on the couch,” I say. “You’ve tossed and turned since you went in there. Just sleep in here. I’ll take the couch.”

  He reaches for the doorknob. “Haley, we’ve already had this discussion.”

  I grab his arm. “Then just…stay in here…with me.”

  He pulls his arm back and laughs. “That’d make me quite the gentleman, don’t you think?”

  His face is unreadable in the darkness. I shouldn’t have closed the door. I could see every bit of his tired eyes in the dim glow from the kitchen.

  “No one will know,” I say. “And it’s not like anything’s going to happen. I’m the girl who slept with drunken A.J. all night, remember? I can handle you.”

  Vin sighs. “I’m going to hell.”

  “Right…because selling Honey Gold on The Strip didn’t put you there.”

  I grab his arm and drag him toward the bed. I climb in and take the side near the wall. Vin settles in next to me, keeping a safe distance to be the gentleman he seems to think he is.

  “Thank you,” he whispers.

  The silence is long and awkward, and I can’t sleep. Vin has resituated himself too many times, and I know he’s still awake. This isn’t helping us sleep any better than when he was tossing and turning on the creaky couch.

  “Haley,” he finally says.

  I keep my eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah?”

  He props up on his elbow and turns toward me. “If your parents refuse to pay for you to go to college out here, I’ll pay it. Drenaline can pay it.”

  I turn my head from the ceiling to him. “You can’t do that. You’ve already got Topher to worry about. That’s not your responsibility.”

  “You have to come back,” he says. “You belong here.”

  Even though my heart is gushing with all kinds of happiness at hearing that, from Vin of all people, I can’t let him take that on. I prop up on my elbow and mirror his position. His back is turned to the window with the streetlight glow, but I don’t have to see his expression. I know by the tone of his voice that he’s serious.

  “You can’t pay for me to go to college here. I’m not your sister,” I say. I refuse to let him take responsibility for Topher and me.

  “I know,” he says. “I wouldn’t kiss my sister.”

  Oh those butterflies. They’re familiar, like the day I climbed on the back of that yellow jet ski with A.J. I ease back into the pillow.

  “You haven’t kissed me,” I whisper.

  Vin pushes up from the bed and leans over me. “I can’t because you’re still talking.”

  This is the loudest silence I’ve ever heard. My heart thumps, dogs are barking, and there’s a siren somewhere in the distance. Vin’s fingers entangle my hair, and he leans in. The third time is such a freaking charm because this time he kisses me – no headlights, no Pittman, nothing in this world to come between us – just me and Vin and the smell of his aftershave.

  I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. Every bit of that intense iceberg melts, and I feel safe in his arms, like I could stay right here forever with his lips against mine, his hand in my hair, in this perfect Horn Island night. He inhales deeply when he pulls away.

  He lies back onto the bed, closer to me than before, and pulls me nearer. I settle into the crook of his arm. He moves my hair back from my face, kisses my temple, and whispers, “Good night, Sunshine.”

  CHAPTER 21

  I shake my hair free from the towel and check myself one more time in the bathroom mirror before I walk out. Topher hasn’t been home long, and Vin has been lecturing him through the wall about getting enough rest before competitions. He hasn’t mentioned my being here, to my knowledge.

  Deep breath. “It’s now or never,” I say to my reflection. I push through the door, down the hallway, and into the kitchen, which adjoins the living room. Topher’s bare back is to me while he digs through the refrigerator.

  “Dude, did you not buy more milk?” Topher asks the refrigerator door.

  “Middle shelf, toward the back…if you’d actually look,” Vin shoots back.

  “Found it!” Topher shouts out. He spins around, milk in hand. “Holy shhhhh…Haley! Vin! Dude! You could, like, tell me when you have chicks over so I can put clothes on.”

  Vin meets me halfway across the room, kisses my forehead, then says, “She ain’t looking at you.”

  He couldn’t be more right. Vin looks like himself today, well-rested, spiky hair, and intense blue iceberg eyes. Ohmygod he’s beautiful, and this time, I’m not even afraid to admit it to myself.

  “You have girls over often?” I ask.

  “No,” Vin says. He reaches into a cardboard box of Drenaline Surf merch and tosses Topher a T-shirt. “Never actually.”

  Topher’s head pops out of the blue shirt. “But apparently there’s a first time for everything. Cereal?” He shakes a box of Lucky Charms and shrugs his shoulders.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say. Topher hands me a bowl, and all the awkward conversation I expected never comes to surface.

  An hour later, I’m latched onto both of the Brooks brothers trying to fight our way through the mass of people on The Strip.

  “Why didn’t we just go around back?” Topher screams into my ear from behind me, hoping Vin can hear him from in front of me.

  “It’s never been this crazy! I didn’t think it would be!” Vin shouts back.

  I expected a big crowd to swamp the beach today, but it’s barely eight A.M. This is freaking insane. There’s a line outside of Drenaline Surf, blocking the front entrance and any chances we had of getting inside. They don’t care if Vin owns the place. They just need last minute surfboard wax.

  “Strick’s!” Vin shouts, jerking his head toward the boating store.

  It’s busy inside but nothing like the craze outside of the surf shop. Reed waves across the store, and an older guy joins him at the register. Reed says something to him then bolts around the counter toward us.

  “Dad’s got it covered, so if you need me, I’m yours,” he says to Vin. Then he looks directly at me. “Haley…you’re becoming a stranger these days. Not cool.”

  I swap awkward glances with Topher, hoping he won’t start blabbing that I spent the night with his brother, but Vin is all
business today and isn’t in the mood for secrets.

  “It’s insane out there. We can’t even get into the store. Mind if we cut through the back?” he asks.

  Reed motions us to the back sliding glass door. He follows me and the brothers through the sand to the back office of Drenaline Surf, which thankfully has a fire exit that serves as today’s entrance. A.J. is sitting in Vin’s office chair.

  “I’m not even late, and A.J. has taken over my store,” Vin says. He grabs the back of the chair and spins it around.

  “Dude,” A.J. says. “Shaka Magazine already called wanting to interview Colby after he surfs today. The lady with the flamingo pond has called three times and won’t let me take a message, and the Ocean Blast CEO dude took the wrong exit and I had to give him directions. Where the hell have you been?”

  Topher answers for Vin. “He was pre-occupied.”

  The phone rings again. “I wasn’t pre-occupied. I was on my way,” Vin says. Another ring. “The front door was completely blocked with all those crazy people.” Another ring. “Damn it,” he says before grabbing the phone. “Drenaline Surf, this is Vin.”

  He grabs the pen from A.J.’s hand and begins scribbling down whatever the voice on the other end of the phone is saying. He waves Topher toward the main showroom of the store, and Reed follows him into the mass of surf mania.

  A.J. pulls me toward the back door, and I follow him back outside. We don’t have a chance to talk though because Linzi and Alston meet us almost instantly.

  “So nice having connections,” Alston says, pointing to his car in the ‘employees only’ parking lot of Strickland’s Boating.

  Linzi grabs my shoulders, and her eyes glow with excitement. “Where’d you go last night? Did Vin really take you to see Colby? You have to tell me everything,” she says in one breath. “I’m so excited to see him surf today. It’s like we finally get what we came here for.”

  “She’ll tell you all about it,” A.J. says. “But we’ve gotta go grab something for Vin. Meet us at the Drenaline tent later?”

  Linzi nods and bounces off with Alston to find the Drenaline Surf tent. I don’t know how to tell her that Colby Taylor is the very last thing I’m here for these days. I breathe a sigh of relief and thank A.J. for stalling her for the time being. But that doesn’t stop him from demanding answers, and right now, I feel better giving A.J. answers than I do Linzi. We trek through the sand to the employee parking lot and sit on the hood of Alston’s car.

  “I kissed Vin, and Colby Taylor sucks,” I say.

  “Whoa. You kissed Vin?”

  “Well, he kissed me.”

  “But you kissed him back, right?”

  “Yes,” I admit. I don’t know if I’m flustered from admitting that out loud or if it’s just this summer heat burning my skin. I’ll go with the heat, just to save a little bit of my pride.

  “Okay, let me get this straight,” A.J. says, talking with his hands. “You came to California for the guy who sucks, but you end up kissing the guy who you thought sucked the most?”

  I bury my face into my hands and laugh. That’s exactly what I did. I know he’s probably shaking his head, but I refuse to unhide my face. “Yes.”

  “Damn,” he says. “There’s never a dull moment with you around.”

  That pulls my face up quickly. “You’re a fine one to speak – stealing election signs, passing out drunk in my bed, busting Dominic’s eye.”

  A.J. nudges me with his shoulder. “Hush.” He looks off at the water. “I told you about Vin. He’s not a bad guy. He’s just got a lot on him that he never asked for.”

  The action from the store has moved to the Drenaline Surf tent near the shoreline. A.J. and I walked The Strip for a while, hated on Colby, and he again reminded me that Vin was never the evil con artist I thought he was. But now that I’m sitting on the toolbox in the back of Jace’s truck, I’m still fighting to find words to tell Linzi that Colby Taylor isn’t all I’d dreamed him up to be.

  I wish A.J. hadn’t gone back to the store to cover for Vin. He’d be straight up with Linzi, so I wouldn’t have to be. There’s no way Reed would say it, even if he did think Colby was a royal screw up. And right now, Reed is my only wingman.

  “I can’t wait to see him surf,” Linzi says. “Was he excited about it?”

  Shrugging my shoulders isn’t much of an answer, though. “He didn’t really say much about it,” I tell her.

  Reed looks across the water at the surfers paddling out. “This isn’t his first rodeo. One competition is the same as the next for him,” he says.

  Linzi stares at Reed for a second, probably trying to figure out what a rodeo has to do with surfing, but luckily she doesn’t ask and focuses all of her attention on the guys in the water. She’s excited, just like everyone else in the Crescent Cove sand. And just like the west coast surf fans, she’s so ready to see Colby Taylor do what Colby Taylor does best.

  But I’m not ready to see him. I honestly don’t want to. Just days ago, I thought I’d see him surf and know he was happy with his new life, and I’d be able to let it go. For Colby, it’s not about being one with the ocean or becoming a part of the wave that’s carrying him. I can’t watch him surf when he takes the love for surfing in vain.

  I latch onto Reed’s arm and pull him close enough so Linzi won’t hear me. “I need your help,” I whisper.

  He nods in agreement, and I tell Linzi we’ll be back in a little bit. She tells me to hurry or I might miss the big moment of seeing Colby surf. I don’t tell her, but that’s exactly what I’m aiming for.

  Vin looks up from under the hood of my car when Reed pulls up next to him. “Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, Sunshine?”

  I laugh because secretly that is part of the reason I made Reed bring me back to the condo. “That…and I couldn’t stomach watching Colby surf,” I say.

  Reed tells us that he’s going to park his Jeep near the amateur division section and double checks with Vin to make sure we’ll be there in time. Vin says there’s no way he’d miss it. I watch Reed’s Jeep until he’s out of sight.

  “Have you told them?” Vin asks. “You know, that you’re leaving tonight?”

  I’d hoped he wouldn’t bring that back up. “Yeah,” I say. “Reed complained that he’ll have to go back to keeping A.J. out of trouble. And A.J. is really good at denial because he refused to hear me out when I tried to explain that I can’t stay forever…at least not yet.”

  Vin slams the hood shut. “I changed the oil and topped off the other fluids. Your tires are good…and I hacked into the system and did some rewinding on the mileage so it won’t appear that you’ve driven to Cali and back.”

  “How’d you do that?” I ask as I follow him down the sidewalk and into the kitchen.

  He turns on the faucet and scrubs the oil from his hands. “Magic trick,” he answers.

  “Feel like helping me work a little more magic?” I ask.

  It takes twenty-five minutes through competition traffic to get to the far side of Crescent Cove. The pier is alive today with retired couples spending the day with their grandchildren, all of whom are oblivious to the insanity happening a few miles down the shoreline. It’s peaceful out here. Waves crashing, seagulls cawing, children laughing. It makes sense why this is Colby’s Zen location. But there’s no ignoring that air horn in the distance. I wonder if that’s his competition, if he did well enough in the first heat to move forward. Of course he did. He’s Colby freaking Taylor.

  “You always return to the scene of the crime?” Vin asks, slipping his hand into mine.

  “Sometimes it’s necessary,” I tell him.

  We walk the length of the pier mostly in silence. He speaks to a person here and there, and I wait for someone to ask him why he’s not at the competition. But no one asks. No one even minds our being here really. They go about their lives and their afternoon as if we aren’t strolling along their pier.

  I stop just short of the pier’s edge and coun
t three tiki torches back. I twist a piece of the wood around and tuck the little orange CT star into the torch. I position it as carefully as I can, so it can’t be ripped away by the wind or caught up in the torch’s fire when they’re lit up tonight for all of the cove to see. I don’t need his unlucky autographed star anymore.

  “An eye for an eye, huh?” Vin asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “It’s symbolic though, so that makes revenge okay.”

  I wrap my arms over his, tilt my head back against his chest, and inhale. I’m going to miss this west coast ocean air.

  “Let’s stay here a while,” Vin says.

  We settle onto the edge of the pier, away from the third tiki torch and laughing grandchildren. Then Vin unleashes half a million thoughts into the universe from his worries over what’ll happen if Dominic wins this sponsorship to how Alston bought that hot pink Frisbee for Dexter when he was just a puppy and Colby got mad because it was a girly color.

  The mention of Dexter sends my thoughts back to last night in Horn Island.

  “What happened to your neighbor?” I ask. “Luther, the guy with the pit bull.” Not that Vin really needed the clarification.

  “War veteran,” he says. “He was born and raised in Horn Island, known him all my life. When he got home, they offered him full residency at a facility that is set up for injured vets, but that’d mean leaving the island. Because they offered the facility, they weren’t obligated to make his current residence wheelchair accessible.”

  “So who made the ramps for him?” I ask.

  Vin hangs his head but smiles. “Me and Topher. Horn Island is just one of those places you can’t leave. It gets in your veins.”

  I rest my head against his shoulder. “I don’t want to go back to North Carolina.”

  “I don’t want you to,” he says. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer to him. “I don’t know who I’m going to get to sell raffle tickets for me now.”

  I ram my elbow into his side and push him away. “You’ll just find some other hot girl on The Strip to do it for you. By the time I come back next summer, you’ll be engaged, and I’ll be long forgotten. Then I’ll have to date your brother.”