Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf Series) (22 page)

BOOK: Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf Series)
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I take a deep breath and verbalize my next realization.
“And if Miles chokes on nerves this weekend, everyone will see it, and they’ll blast you for picking him over Dominic,” I say. “And they don’t know the side of Dominic that we know. You really wouldn’t have a choice.”

Vin sits up and dusts the sand off the back of his shirt.
“Miles is Topher’s best friend. I’ll catch hell regardless. If he wins, everyone will say it was rigged. If he chokes, then I’ll be stuck with Colby
and
Dominic, and I can’t take that much arrogance. Do you know how fast that store would go under? I need Drenaline to put Topher through college. I can go back to fixing cars, but Topher’s better than that. He can do more. He deserves more.”

I want to tell Vin that
he’s
better than that, that he deserves everything he’s ever wanted too. But every line I think of sounds even cornier than the last, and I doubt he’d believe me anyway.

Vin slides over closer to me.
“I have a plan though,” he says. “You can’t tell anyone, or I swear, I really will have to kill you. Topher knows, but he’s the only one.” He glances over at A.J., who seems to be passed out in the sand.


I don’t have anyone to tell,” I remind him. Linzi is so far out of the question. And her replacement in the best friend slot is passed out behind me.


Okay, so, this energy drink company contacted me a while back about doing a sponsorship through Drenaline Surf, and in return, we’d sell their drinks, put their logo on a lot of our stuff, and Colby would wear it during competitions. We’d basically market them, right?” he says.

He talks wi
th his hands, like Topher does. I’ve never seen Vin this excited about anything, but his movements are dead on with enthusiasm. It makes me smile bigger than I ever thought I would for Vin Brooks.


It’s this energy drink slash rehydrating drink, like Gatorade with some kind of extra zing to it,” he explains.

And it totally clicks.
“Ocean Blast Energy!” I practically scream it. “Topher is always drinking it, not that he needs it. He’s kind of hyper anyway.”


All those damn sugar cubes,” Vin says, nodding along. “He’s been my test subject – I know, he’s the worst candidate – but I figured if it wasn’t too much for him, everyone else would be okay. I can’t just endorse a product that I don’t know about. It’s bad for business.”


What’s the trade off?” I ask. “What does Drenaline get in return?”


The sponsorship,” Vin says. “The money, the perks, their logo, the whole works. I’m just praying Miles doesn’t choke. He has before. If he wipes out, I’m fucked.”

I’m still confused
, though. How does Ocean Blast Energy help him if all they’re doing is backing Colby and possibly Dominic? How does anyone win in that situation? That would be just stroking their egos and dragging Shark’s legacy through the mud.


So, um, what’s your genius plan? I don’t think I get it,” I admit. I dig my flip flop into the sand and watch the ground reconstruct around it.


Oh yeah,” Vin says. “That plan – Logan Riley.”

I wish it
wasn’t so dark out here. My eyes have adjusted well in the moonlight, but damn it, I swear if I could see Vin’s eyes right now, they’d be the most incredibly beautiful shade of blue that even Solomon can’t catch in the sunlight. I can hear his smile in his voice.


I met him last year,” he says. “And he’s interested in Drenaline. He wants to move out here, get away from Florida and join the big league of surfing. His contract with his sponsor is up for renewal in March, and he said he’s not signing it. He’s saving up now to move out to the cove.”


Fuck,” A.J. says behind me. “I’m going to have to change my voodoo doll’s name now.”

A.J. most likely won’t even remember this conversation in the morning. Or afternoon. Whenever he sobers up. What I don’t understand is how a big time surfer in Florida hears about a surf shop in California – one of a kind – and wants to be part of it. Then again, Colby Taylor is his archrival. He probably knows everything there is to know about Drenaline Surf.

“He’s real,” Vin says. “He’s got Colby’s talent and Miles’ heart, and he’s driven and wants to be better. And his family knows he’s alive. His name is the same one he was born with. No extra baggage. No bodyguards. No empowerment over the world around him.”

With Miles and Logan, Drenaline Surf could totally build itself up to be something bigger than Vin or Shark ever dreamed of. And as much as I kind of hate it, Colby doesn’t hurt. As long as he and Logan can come to terms, they might be an unstoppable duo in the surf world.

“So Ocean Blast Energy…then Logan,” I say. “Sounds like you are quite the businessman.”

Vin laughs.
“Don’t give me any credit until I actually deserve it.”

He doesn’t realize that he already does.

 

It takes nearly an hour for Vin to fix A.J.’s car – or at least get it running long enough to make it back to the condo. Reed’s
Jeep is back in the garage, and Alston’s little red sports car is in the sand. I laugh at the irony that we’re the last ones rolling in from the west coast party, and we’re the ones who partied the least. Except for A.J. He staggers into the guest house, but I walk back outside. The gears are still turning in my head.


I sold those tickets for
you
!” I don’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it does.

Vin shrugs and locks the doors of A.J.’s car.
“You got me on that one,” he says. “But I do appreciate it. Thanks. You did good.”

He has that tone again. That smartass tone that I hate. There’s no way in hell he’s going back there with me. Not after all of this. Not after tonight. Not after he told me about Logan Riley and Drenaline Surf and how much he wants Miles to win this and let him off the hook.

“So you said it,” I accuse again. “You told A.J. to tell me to sell to the guys only because they’d buy from me. That was all you.”

He crosses the sand to the sidewalk where I’m standing and stares at me in the glow of the streetlights.
“Yeah, that was me. It was a good sales technique, wasn’t it?”

I grab his arm when he brushes past me to go inside.
“That’s not all you said,” I remind him.

He twists back around, looks to the sky, then back at me. He shakes his head, but I don’t let go of my grip on his arm.
“Haley, please,” he finally says. “Let me walk away from tonight with a little bit of my pride.”

As much as the angsty girl inside of me wants to twist the knife and make him say it, I don’t. Instead, I let go of his arm and follow him inside to find A.J. crashed out sleeping in my bed. Linzi is most likely asleep in Alston’s room, but I still don’t want to sleep in her room tonight. This room is mine – Zombie Asylum, Solomon, and even the drunk best friend sleeping in my bed.

“I can stay with him if you want,” Vin says. “And you can crash in his room. Or I can drag him upstairs in the condo. I just don’t want him to be alone. I’ve heard too many stories of people drowning when they’ve passed out.”

Thank God he spared me the gross details. But I’ve heard the stories too. And Vin can’t lose another friend to drowning, even if it’s not in the ocean.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I can stay with him. I’m a light sleeper, so I’ll definitely check on him all night. And you’ve gotta be up early to get to the store for all that pre-competition stuff.”

Vin nods.
“I’ll crash here, in his room. Just come get me if you need me, no matter what, okay?”


Promise,” I say.

He lingers a minute longer, like he’s trying to convince himself that it’s okay to leave A.J. under my watchful eye. But he finally says,
“Good night, Sunshine,” and heads back toward the condo before I can say much else to him.

I push A.J. over onto his side, facing away from me just in case he does throw up, and turn off the light. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I know it’s going to be a restless night. I feel around for A.J.’s wrist in the darkness then latch on and wait for his pulse to thump beneath my fingers. I almost wish I could channel his intoxicated dreams.

Tonight, I don’t think I’ll dream of anything less than icebergs.

CHAPTER
18

A rush of tourists and teenagers jostle me around as I push through them to reach the door of Drenaline Surf. I don’t know why I expected less right before a surf competition, but this place seems larger than life now. I totally feel the weight of the world that Vin is carrying on his shoulders.

Kristin slams the register shut and scrunches her nose at me. It’s almost enough to make me bolt for the door. Almost. I don’t know what I did to offend her, but I think I’m guilty by association.


I need to see your boss,” I say. I stiffen my shoulders and stand up straight, hoping she’ll get the hint that I’m not backing down and I’m not scared of her or her bleached hair.


He’s busy,” she hisses back at me. Her arms fold across her chest. She’s not backing down either.

Deep breath.
“I get that,” I say. “But it’s important. It won’t take long.”

I leave out the part that I need to see him for my own selfish reasons – to prove to myself he’s still that jerkoff who tried to sell me cheap hair dye in a spray can and he’s not this super cool guy who spilled his secrets across the sand last night.

“He doesn’t have time to–” Kristin’s words are swallowed by the sugar cube rush diving over the counter to hug me.


Haley! What’s up?” Topher shouts in my ear.

I squeeze him into a tight hug and say the only thing that I possibly can.
“I need to see your brother.”

Topher jerks his thumb toward the area behind the counter.
“This way.”

Linzi is with me in spirit. I’ve got her stupid fairy hop bounce and clown painted smile wrapped from ear to ear.
However, I refrain from looking back over my shoulder at Kristin and giving her a “haha!” smile that Linzi would flash in a heartbeat.

Topher pushes the office door open
. Vin is drowning in invoices and boxes. He glances up over the mess, and his shoulders fall with relief that it’s just his brother and not the surf world CEOs coming to take over.


Brought a visitor,” Topher says. He pulls me into view, and Vin cracks a smile.

I think my heart might’ve just melted. Or exploded. Or completely stopped pumping.

Topher bails on me instantly, leaving me lingering underneath the office doorway, too scared to enter but too excited to truly hold myself back.


I could definitely use a ray of sunshine right about now,” Vin says. “Good timing.”

I push the door closed behind me and walk over to the desk.
“You look overwhelmed.”


Overwhelmed was about two hours ago. I’m outright lost now,” he says. He falls back in his chair, his eyes pleading for some sort of salvation to get him through the next few days.

A strand of hair falls into my face, and I brush it back behind my ear before Vin can.
“Do you need some help?” I ask.

My thoughts flash to Solomon for a split second, his blue reflection bouncing around the guest room right now, and I pray his lucky light can reach me this far from the condo.

I think the light found its way to Vin’s eyes instead though because they are bluer than I’ve ever seen them – melted icebergs and specks of Ocean Blast Energy – and I could drown happily inside of them.


You’re the best,” he says. He pushes off the chair and pulls me out the door behind him. He lets Topher know that he’s leaving him in charge, and we hit The Strip.

 

Vin opens the doors on the back of the trailer that Jace hauled down into the sand. There are crates upon crates of T-shirts, and as boring as it may be, my and Vin’s afternoon task is to sort them out by color and size. Then box them again for the opening morning of the competition.

I open each box as Vin drops it in the sand, lining them up under the Drenaline Surf tent, but this one rattles with the noise of metal cans. I dig into it instantly, and it’s a con artist’s dream – hair dye in a spray can. Or thirty cans.

“Seriously?” I ask, holding up a can of Honey Gold. “This is the color you would’ve recommended for me?” I twist my hair around my finger and attempt to match my own highlights to the color of the lid.


Give me that,” Vin says, using his jackass voice yet again. He reaches over for it, but I jerk my arm back.


Why do you even have this stuff?” Now I remember why he wasn’t so awesome to begin with. I remember that initial meeting when he spit out the nickname Sunshine with much less affection and fed me that awful line about scratching the VIN number off of the cars he’d stolen. “You
own
Drenaline Surf,” I say more to myself than Vin. I shake the can at him. “Why do you need this?”

BOOK: Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf Series)
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