Zoe nodded enthusiastically. “Got it. Ready to party, right Luca?”
“Yeah,” I grunted, white-knuckling my board.
“Cool. I mentioned this earlier, but it’s super important, so I want to remind you to respect the right of way and stay in your own lane. You don’t want to take anyone else out.” He waited for our acknowledgment, then tilted his chin. “All righty, troops. Follow me.”
Easier said than done.
I fell in immediately. My next two attempts involved swallowing a liter of the Pacific before I got myself situated. I had to paddle my ass off to catch up to Zoe and Cal. And somewhere in the battle to traverse twenty feet in less than five minutes, it occurred to me that it might help if I adjusted my thinking and pretended the ocean surface was an ice rink, and the wave I was about to catch was a puck I needed to bring to shore. Sounded perfectly doable when I put it that way.
But my arms felt like spaghetti noodles as I closed the distance, bypassing four other surfers to catch up to Zoe. Her eyes were glued to the shore, but she was primed and ready to take off on cue.
Cal darted his gaze in my direction and held his hand up, yelling a command that was probably “No,” but could have been “Go.” Long story short…I went, and it was a big mistake.
Look, I knew the chances of me gliding across the water and stepping onto the sand without incident were slim to none, but I was one cocky bastard. And my notion that this was hockey on melted ice was just plain…dumb. I didn’t have the skill or experience to bluff my way through, but I stubbornly figured that the worst-case scenario involved wiping out.
Yeah, that happened, but it was a bit more dramatic. And a lot more embarrassing.
Of course, I fell the second I tried to stand up. That part wasn’t a surprise. However, sitting on top of a wave, even a relatively small one, immediately buried me in white wash. I felt like a pair of gym shorts in the spin cycle of a washing machine. I popped to the surface just in time to get clipped by a fellow surfer. The tail end of his board smacked me in the forehead. I went under again and in the commotion, the tether around my ankle came loose.
So there I was…bopping in the ocean half a mile from shore without a board and no idea what to do next. Everything Cal said had gone in one ear and out the other. Why? Because he was too damn hot, and I was easily distracted by him. Yep, this was his fault. But there was no way I was going to show up looking like a drowned rat without that board.
I scanned the turbulent sea as I half floated, half doggie-paddled. Nothing, nothing…ah! I spotted it on a collision course for the pier. I sucked in a deep breath and swam like mad.
My head and my arms ached, but I powered on. It took me a precious minute or so to realize that the harder I swam, the farther the board drifted. And the farther I drifted out to sea.
“Swim sideways!” someone yelled in the distance.
I obeyed, but it was fucking exhausting, especially with a strong force pulling at me from below, urging me to give up and drift. It was tempting to let go. I was already too far from shore. And too far from the pier. Panic lodged in my throat as the waves got taller.
Fuck. Death by drowning was not how I wanted to go out. My lungs were on fire and my head—
“Luca!” Cal called over the roar of the ocean. “I’m right here. Grab my board.”
I couldn’t see Cal or his board. I lifted my hand, waving toward the sound of his voice. I opened my mouth to speak and swallowed a gallon of salt water. I choked it out, alarmed at the sharp sting in my chest. Everything fucking hurt now, but I coached myself to stay buoyant and ideally, not panic.
That was when a bullhorn blasted overhead. Or maybe that was Cal’s voice again.
“The board is to your right, and a boat is on the way. You’ve got this.”
I stretched my arm to my right and didn’t stop trying until I hit something solid.
“Got it,” I gasped.
“Good job. Come a little closer,” Cal coaxed firmly. “That’s it. Hold on to the board. The boat will be here in a sec.”
“Boat?” I repeated, resting my cheek on the cold, wet surface.
“Yeah, but don’t get too comfy. Stay with me, Luca. Open your eyes,” Cal commanded.
I fluttered my lashes, narrowing my gaze against the sun’s glare. Cal was close and solid and…safe. Despite the ringing in my ear and the constant swoosh of water in my face, I was able to tune out the excess noise and concentrate on him. I studied his mouth as if it might help me to hear him better.