“For fuck’s sake.”
“Bro, what’s happening?” He drags a hand through his spiky blond hair. His blue eyes are bloodshot, and he has a sleepy grin on his face.
“What’s happening is that I’ve got a crew waiting on the beach, along with me and Scott, and you’re supposed to be there.”
“Zach, my loverrr, come back to bed.”
I raise my eyebrows. Jade O’Connell, Zach’s surfer girlfriend, is American. So, unless they’re doing some sort of role-play, the French accent coming from the bed is not hers. Nor is the glimpse of dark hair I see when I peer over his shoulder.
“Ah fuck, I’m sorry, man. My alarm didn’t go off.”
I don’t have time for this. “Sort your shit out, and come down. Breakfast and coffee are in the trailer.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
“I’ll wait. You’ve got five minutes.” The last thing I need is for him to fall back into bed with whoever is with him.
The door closes. I lean against the wall, my arms folded, and repress my annoyance. If Zach wants to get pissed and fuck around, that’s on him, but he’s here to do a job, and I have no problem going in there to get him if he doesn’t come back out. I stopped drinking over a year ago, and have no desire to return to that scene. I’ve seen the damage it can do.
A couple of minutes later the door opens. Zach, clad in sweats, ambles out, yawning. He smells like sex and booze, looks like some sort of ravaged Adonis, all cheekbones and bleary eyes. I hope he’ll perk up once he gets in the water.
“Let’s do this.” He punches me in the arm, and I can’t help but laugh. He is chaos personified, I swear. Hard not to like the guy, despite the fact he can be an ass.
“Good night?”
“Yeah, it was all right.”
“And the girl?”
“She works behind the bar.” One corner of his mouth curves up. “Knows how to suck one back, too.”
Christ alive. I shake my head. “Information I didn’t need.”
We head down the stairs, getting a few curious glances as we cross the foyer, heading outside.
“Jesus.” Zach grimaces, wrapping his arms around himself as we head down to the beach. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”
“I’m actually all right. The suit’s pretty warm.”
“Yeah? Looks good, too. What’s the movement like in it?” Zach is all professional now, examining my wetsuit critically. He might be a bit of a loose cannon, as Scott says, but he knows surfing.
“Yeah, not bad at all.” I swing my arms, crossing them in front of me. There’s a slight pull in the seams at the shoulders, and I make a mental note. A small adjustment, but one that can make a difference. I know I’m broad across my back, but it’ll be interesting to get feedback from Scott and Zach, too.
I wait outside the trailer until Zach emerges, sleek in black rubber. He pulls the hood over his blond hair, and fastens the Velcro on the booties. “Feels all right,” he says, stretching. “Let’s get some waves.”
ChapterFour
Myles
Afew minutes later the three of us are seated on our boards, bobbing out back of the breaking waves, waiting for the next set to come through. Bill, the videographer, is in the water nearby.
“Right, so, any feedback you have on fit, movement, anything you think can be adjusted, tell me. Bill will get some shots of us surfing, you know the drill.”
“Sounds good. Do you think we’ll be done in time for me to head home early? Aaron has a football match after school, and I promised Sal I’d try and get back in time.” Scott rolls his shoulder, stretching.
Aaron is Scott and his wife Sally’s eight-year-old son, and a bundle of mischief, just like his father.
Zach shakes his head. “You can’t break a promise to your woman, man. We’ll get this done.”
