Page 42

I felt like shit. My body was heavy, and getting out of bed was hard. It was very similar to how I felt after I’d learned my mom died. The difference was that I didn’t have the luxury of lying in bed and wishing for death to take me too.

We were only a few weeks out from the surf competition, and I wanted to be ready to surf a true Leviathan before the beach was flooded with news and paparazzi.

I didn’t have any interest in the competition, but I did want to prove to myself that I could survive this beach before any of those other assholes did it.

So, when Jet started pounding on my door, I pushed through the heavy blanket of depression that was threatening to pull me under and got up .

Riddick was waiting in the living room. He’d made me breakfast like he always did but hadn’t tried to crawl in bed with me the night before.

I was grateful. I could barely look at him. I wasn’t even angry with him. I was just… heartbroken.

I thought I knew what heartache was, but I’d been wrong. This wound in my chest was all-consuming.

I felt the pain everywhere. The grief of losing Riddick was a living thing . It crouched on my shoulders—a feathered scavenger that preyed on things already halfway dead.

What made the grief cut even deeper was the fact that he was gone… but somehow also still right there.

I could see him.

I could smell him.

And I knew, if I allowed myself to, I could touch him.

How was it possible? Was he really a spirit, or was I having a full-blown psychotic break?

I wasn’t sure, but all I knew was he was so real to me, and knowing that he wasn’t an actual tangible, breathing human being was so fucked up I couldn’t begin to process what was happening.

“Morning ba—Finn,” he whispered, and my already tense shoulders shot up to my ears. I didn’t respond; I simply made my way to the door to let Jet in.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the guy, but I was grateful that fate seemed to have dropped an alternative to Riddick directly in my lap.

I knew I would have to talk to Riddick and decide what I was going to do about our relationship at some point. I just needed a second to work through what I was feeling.

I also still needed to train, and I didn’t think there was any way I could continue training with Riddick while feeling the way I was at the moment.

So, Jet, with his playful smile and easy attitude, would have to do for now.

I think if I wasn’t using every scrap of energy I had to just stay upright, I might have liked Jet. As it was, I could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone put any effort into a new friendship.

I opened the door to find Jet leaning against the frame with a pair of charcoal Oakleys and a plain black T-shirt.

He gave me one of those handsome, easy grins and snapped the gum he was chewing as he straightened.

“Morning, surf star. You’re looking rested .” He smirked, giving me an up and down over the rims of his shades as he brushed past me.

“Ah, you made breakfast, dope,” he said, slipping into one of my kitchen chairs and digging into the pancakes Riddick had made me.

“Uh. Yeah, help yourself,” I mumbled, though Jet’s mouth was already full. He patted the chair next to me, indicating that he wanted me to join him.

“Eat up. Gotta get these carbs in and digest a bit before we hit the waves.”

I slid into the chair next to him, ignoring the angry burn of Riddick’s eyes on me from where he was sitting silently in the living room.

“So, how’d you hear about Leviathans in the first place?” Jet asked me casually, taking a big gulp from a cup of orange juice Riddick had poured for me.

“I was surfing with Turtle on the East Coast, and someone said they heard a rumor that you could hit up twenty footers here, so we came to check it out.”

Jet raised an eyebrow at me and put his fork down, turning to face me.

His knee brushed against mine, and I noticed he didn’t make any move to pull away. I frowned, wondering if that was intentional or if I was just imagining it.

I was still staring at where his knee was pressed against mine when he spoke .

“The waves at Leviathans get way higher than that. It’s late enough in the season that we might catch some twenties today. Over the next few weeks, they’re going to get even bigger.”

I nodded, sliding my chair back slightly so I could sit next to him without touching him.

“I know.”

He was watching me carefully, and I felt weirdly exposed.

“How do you know ? Only Kai, Riddick, and I really know Leviathan’s patterns. Or that was the case before Kai and I left. As far as I know, no one has tried to surf the beach since Jake died.”

This easy flip back and forth from Riddick to Jake triggered me for some reason. This was how I’d ended up so fucking blindsided.

“Call him Jake or Riddick. Fucking pick one,” I snapped and immediately regretted my outburst. Jet looked surprised for a minute, then nodded.

“Alright. Jake then. His fans called him Riddick, but the people closest to him always knew him as Jake.”

“Why Riddick? Where’d that name come from?”

A sad smile spread across Jet’s face, and he leaned back in his chair, sliding down slightly. His knee brushed mine again, but I didn’t think he even noticed. He had this far-away look like he was remembering something that somehow both made him happy and sad at the same time.

“When we were kids, it was pretty clear early on that Jake wasn’t like the rest of us. He was a natural.”

“I’ve seen you surf. You’re incredible,” I said, remembering how Jet looked the other day riding the waves like he was a part of the ocean. He almost seemed like he belonged in the water more than he did on land.

“Yeah, I’ve got years of practice and experience under my belt. I worked my ass off to stay on Jake’s level. But for him? Everything just came easy. I would need to put in days of work to pick up something he managed on the first try. He really was a prodigy. ”

Jet smiled at me, and he looked so sad for a minute that I wished I could tell him Riddick was literally in the shack with us, listening to every word he said.

“Eat,” he said, making a lazy gesture toward my untouched plate, indicating that he wanted me to eat while he told me his story.

“Anyway, similar to how you have your little fan club, Jake had a crew that used to watch him surf, too,” Jet explained as I took a syrup-soaked bite of pancakes.

“Whenever he did some cool new stunt, his fans would lose their minds. ‘Did you see that?! That was ridiculous!’”

He chuckled as if he could literally still hear the crowd cheering for his friend.

“It kind of became a coined term. Ridiculous. Over time, it was shortened to ‘That’s ridic!’ Which morphed at some point to ‘That’s so Riddick,’ in reference to Jake. So, that’s how his nickname came to be. That’s why he’s Riddick.”

I swallowed my bite of pancake and frowned.

“I’m sorry… for your loss,” I whispered, and he met my gaze, his dark eyes soft and full of a wistful kind of sadness.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I miss him all the time. We were… We were really close.”

The way he said it made me feel strange. Like they were closer than friends.

I glanced over at Riddick, but I couldn’t read his expression at all. His jaw was tight, and he had stood up from his seat on the couch as if he wanted to say something or join in somehow.

“I wasn’t kidding when I told you that you remind me of him when you surf. Watching you yesterday…” He cleared his throat roughly, and I noticed his eyes were glassier than they’d been when I first came in. “It was like he was still alive.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I just reached out and laid my hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze.

He glanced at my hand, then met my eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, though he didn’t pull away. “I said I was gonna coach you, and here I am bumming you out.”

“You’re not bumming me out,” I assured him. “Losing someone you love is hard. I get it.”

Jet was staring at me with a soft smile tilting on his perfectly shaped mouth. He leaned closer, and I blinked as I felt his breath skate across my lips.

He smelled like cinnamon and spice, whereas Riddick was more sea salt and coconut. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when I realized how close we were and how intimate this moment was suddenly feeling.

“Thanks, surf star,” he said softly, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. He chuckled. “You’ve got some syrup right?—”

CRASH!

We both jumped, and I threw myself away from Jet, whipping toward the sound. Riddick was standing next to my now-shattered floor lamp, which he’d clearly knocked over intentionally.

He was pissed. His fists were clenched at his side, and the muscles in his jaw flexed uncontrollably.

“That was weird…” Jet mused, frowning at the broken lamp. He got up and wandered over to inspect the base, no doubt trying to figure out how it had tipped over like that when neither of us was anywhere near it.

“Uh, yeah. Super weird,” I agreed, glaring at Riddick over Jet’s shoulder.

Riddick looked like he wanted to snap at me, but I just raised my eyebrows at him in challenge, and he shut his mouth.

“You got a broom? I’ll help clean this up,” Jet mumbled absently, and I gestured to the tiny broom closet next to the bathroom.

“We need to talk, Finn,” Riddick said firmly. It was freaking me out that Jet couldn’t hear him at all, and he was speaking at a regular volume.

“Not now,” I hissed .

“ Obviously not now, but when he’s gone, we need to discuss this.”

My blood was boiling. I was so hurt and fucking angry with him. I wasn’t ready to have a productive conversation.

“I said not now.”

Jet was already on his way back with the broom and a dustpan. I gave him what I hoped was a normal smile, and Riddick darkened further.

“You better not let him touch you,” he growled, and my eyebrows flew up in surprise.

He thought I was what… gonna hook up with Jet? Five seconds after I found out that the man I thought I was in love with had been lying to me for months?

I’d barely been able to get out of bed this morning, let alone think about fucking someone else.

“Your fan club was right. You really are fucking ridiculous!” I hissed, and Jet glanced at me, looking confused.

“You say something, surf star?”

I shook my head and rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, forcing out a laugh.

“Nah, I was just saying that the draft in here is ridiculous. Stuff’s falling off counters all the time.”

“Oh… that’s super strange. All the windows are closed,” he said, though he didn’t sound like he was actually suspicious. He was just making an observation as he started to sweep up the mess Riddick had made.

Riddick walked up to me, leaning in close enough that I was flooded with his scent.

I could almost taste the salt on his skin and feel the energy radiating off of him.

My whole body reacted to his presence, like he was the sun and I was a flower starved for warmth.

It took everything in me not to close my eyes and breathe him in.

The memory of his hard body lying on top of mine while he murmured my name over and over again, his fingers exploring every inch of my exposed flesh.

How his scorching lips felt as he worshipped my throat. My chest. My abs. My cock…

The way he always shook and quivered through that first thrust, like being inside me was so fucking good he could barely hold himself back.

The rough sound of his voice when he told me he loved me and that he was proud of me…

How almost every time he touched me, it felt like it was this huge, monumental thing. Like I’d found something safe and permanent. Something that was mine.

How the fuck could he not be alive?

Why was this happening to me?

“Have your little lesson with him, but if he lays a finger on you, I’ll do a lot more than break a fucking lamp,” he growled, and my skin sheeted with goosebumps.

“Be back home for dinner so we can talk.”

I couldn’t risk Jet hearing a response, so I just glared at him, and he snarled.

“Is that clear, surf star? Nod if it is.”

I narrowed my eyes but nodded, not wanting him to make even more of a scene. He glared at me for a long moment before turning on his heel. I winced as he slammed the front door open and stormed out onto the beach.

“What the shit was that?!” Jet yelped, spinning to face the door Riddick had left swinging on its hinges.

“Uhh, told you. The draft is crazy. That door blows open all the time.”

“Huh…” Jet scratched the back of his head, eyeing the door like he wanted to tighten its hinges.

I shrugged, giving him one of my best dimpled smiles, hoping to distract him.

“Leave that. I’ll clean it up later. Wanna hit the beach?” I asked, and Jet’s eyes flashed.

“You have no idea how down I am. Come on. Show me what you got.”