Page 11 of From the Ashes (Redwood Bay Fire #2)

CHAPTER 11

Colt

“That’s it! You got it! Try it once more for me?”

It’s the following Sunday, and I feel genuinely thrilled as I watch Nevaeh, Rebecca and Dashel throw themselves back on the sand on their bellies, digging by their hips as they simulate paddling. Then when I give them the signal, they pop up by doing a kind of press-up with their arms before jumping to their feet, like they were jumping on their board in the water.

“Wow, are you sure you guys haven’t had lessons before?” Zahir asks. “You’re basically pros already!” He jams his hands on his hips and scowls at the kids like he’s the big bad wolf, and they all dissolve into giggles. It’s too precious, really.

“No, Mr. Del!” Nevaeh shrieks in her dramatic tone I’ve come to very much enjoy. “This is the very! First! Time! I SWEAR!”

He whistles and shakes his head. “We better warn the Olympic committee, then. Because—wow.”

More giggling. More delight. And then these three tiny kids do the exercise another five times, never complaining, only wanting to get better and better so next time we could maybe try it on the water (with us holding both the board and their waists, of course).

The whole time, Anton and Elizabeth cheer and applaud like it’s the Super Bowl. I thought that kind of behavior would be annoying, but it’s really not. To these kids, their parents’ attention means the world and…yeah. I can relate to that.

My parents never came to a single one of my athletic meets. They were not very subtle about their embarrassment when I was in the school play. The only reason they tolerated any kind of extracurricular activities was because they knew it would help with my Harvard application. But in their eyes, competitive sports and the arts were at best a distraction from my studies, and at worst, uncouth.

At the time, I just accepted it. I didn’t know any different. But watching these kids thrive is opening my eyes to just how important having a well-rounded childhood is. I think back to my colleagues sneering at their teenagers’ hopes and dreams, and it makes me appreciate just how many challenges this generation is facing as they grow up. There’s so much pressure to succeed and be the best. But is there enough joy?

There certainly is for these guys today. I was worried when Zahir and I decided to start them on dry land drills for their first lesson that they might whine and get bored. But they’ve done no such thing. Although now we’ve finished our session, they’re begging us to try just sitting on the kid-sized board they’ve been sharing in the water.

“Pleeeeease, Colt,” Rebecca wheedles, batting her eyelashes at me. “We can’t come all the way to the beach and then not get in the ocean!”

That was actually my exact plan. I didn’t bring any swimwear because the idea of getting in any way naked around Zahir seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

Especially when things are going so well.

Okay, yeah, all we did was text a few times to plan one lesson, then spent most of that lesson talking to the kids and not each other. But the fact that we’re doing this at all feels miraculous to me. I’m not sure if it’s simply wishful thinking on my part, but I can’t help but think there’s less tension between us as well. Like we’ve both released a breath we’ve been holding.

Or perhaps he’s just on his best behavior in front of the kids. Who knows?

Speaking of which, said kids are dancing on their toes with their hands clasped in front of their chests, giving both me and Zahir puppy dog eyes in their quest to get in the water. To be fair, I’m the only one not dressed for it, and that’s on me. In fact, I probably look like a dick right now. It was foolish to think I could avoid getting wet. There really is only one thing I can do.

“Okay, you win,” I groan. The kids cheer as I slip my sandals off. No sense in ruining them. “But just a paddle, alright? I don’t have any other clothes with me.”

“We promise!” Nevaeh cries.

“Hey, we can go in with them if you’d like,” Zahir’s firefighter buddy, Anton, offers. But I shake my head.

“Nah, it’s fine,” I assure him and Elizabeth. “I promised to teach them. Next time, I’ll know better.”

I glance at Zahir in his board shorts and T-shirt. He laughs and gives me an easy smile, making me hopeful that he at least doesn’t think I’m a tool for not dressing appropriately.

To start with, we start by repeating the drill, this time on the board in a couple of inches of water. As no one was sure how serious the kids were going to be about this hobby, Anton and his ex-wife have currently only invested in one board for them all to share for now. The three of them are being very good with taking turns, though. I’m impressed.

With just my feet in the surf, my chinos feel safe initially. Zahir is holding the top of the board, deeper in the water. When we progress to getting the kids to sit on it and dangle their feet over the sides, I only have to wade up to my knees to keep the thing sturdy.

But then Murphy’s law strikes, and I step on a rock so sharp I wonder if it’s actually a shard of thick glass.

Or I would have thought that if I hadn’t been too busy shrieking like a banshee, snatching up my foot, and toppling into the water.

I’m grateful that everyone gasps instead of immediately laughing at me. I’m also grateful that I put my phone in the breast pocket of my short-sleeved button down. The garment flapped open over my T-shirt as I fell, so my cell only gets a little splashed before I yank it out and hold it up to where it can stay safe.

Once I realize no real damage has been done other than to my pride, then I do laugh. That gives the kids permission to dissolve into fits of giggles again.

“Oops,” I say sheepishly.

“You okay?” Zahir asks, wading through the water to me before dropping down and…

And then he’s lifting my foot out of the water, inspecting the tender spot.

We’re touching skin to skin. He’s voluntarily touching me.

My brain bluescreens. It feels like there’s an electrical current running between us, super charging my heart. It’s only when he looks at me and raises an eyebrow that I remember he asked me a question.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I say with a cough. “I think it was just a rock or seashell. I’m not even bleeding, am I?”

He shakes his head and smiles warmly, rubbing my sole with his thumb. The pressure on the injured area feels good.

“I think you’ll live,” he assures me with a wink.

For just a second, I get a flash of how comforting he must be to his patients. He sees people at some of the worst moments of their lives and pulls others from terrifying crises. If I was having a really bad day, I know it’s Zahir’s face I’d want to see.

It’s as if we both realize we’re looking into each other’s eyes at the same time. He glances away, flustered, as I slide my foot from his grip.

“Are you okay, Mr. Colt?” Nevaeh asks in concern by my side. Rebecca and Dashel are hovering behind her. I look around and see that Elizabeth and Anton are wrestling the surfboard back onto the sand. I guess the lesson is probably over for the day.

“Yeah, kiddo,” I say ruefully as I haul my ass up, saltwater rushing from my drenched shorts. “I’m fine, just a klutz. You promise not to tell anyone?”

Rather than laugh, she sticks her bottom lip out and slots her hand against mine. “You’re not a klutz. You just had an accident. It can happen to anyone.”

I look at this small child and wonder if she’s been beating herself up for almost drowning. That hadn’t occurred to me before, but I guess even tough kids get wobbly sometimes. If she can deal with something so huge as that, I can take inspiration from her and get over my embarrassment today.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty wise?” I ask her.

“Dashel tells me I’m a know-it-all,” she says with an eye roll.

“You are!” her brother squeaks as we all make our way back onto the sand. I laugh and hear Zahir laugh too.

I like sharing moments like this with him.

Probably too much.

While the parents round up their kids, I sigh and look down at my soaked clothing. I think my only option is going to be to hang out here for a bit and try and get them to dry, otherwise I’m going to ruin my car’s upholstery. But I don’t have any food or a book, and I’m not sure how much battery my phone has left. So rather than sounding like a relaxing prospect, it feels like I’m going to be bored as fuck.

“Do you want my shorts?”

I blink and look at Zahir. He’s holding out a pair to me, presumably the ones he was intending on changing into as he wore his swimwear here. I’m stunned. Not that he’s being kind and considerate—that’s who he’s always been as far as I’m aware. But that he’d voluntarily give me something of his. Doing that means we’d have to coordinate me giving them back. I could probably just bring them to our next surfing lesson with the kids, but still…

“You’d trust me with them?” I blurt out.

He shrugs and looks slightly awkward. “They’re just shorts.”

We both know they’re not, though. He’d be well within his rights to ignore my plight and let me destroy my car seat and still sleep soundly tonight. But this is why even though I know it’s unwelcome on his side, my stupid heart pitter-patters every time I’m near him. He’s just such a decent human being in a world so often overrun with selfish mean-spiritedness.

I should take them. It’s a practical solution that would save me either having to replace my upholstery or languish in boredom for the next few hours. But taking anything from him feels like too much when I’ve already broken his heart, betrayed his trust, and forced him into living a lie for all that time when we were teens.

So I shake my head and smile sheepishly. “Then you’d be the one stuck in the wet clothes. I’ll just ride it out.”

“Well, I…”

He pauses and bites his lower lip. I notice that Anton, Elizabeth and the kids have quietly left. Part of me feels bad that they obviously felt like they couldn’t interrupt us. But the other part is not only grateful they didn’t, but gets a thrill that they picked up that our vibe was an intimate one. Even though I know it’s selfish, I’m desperate for any private time I can get with Zahir at all.

“Yeah?” I prompt, not sure what he was going to say.

He studies me for a moment, then appears to come to a decision. “I don’t live that far away. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, so I didn’t actually drive. Did you…I mean…you could come back with me for a shower and a change of clothes. Unless?—”

“That would be awesome,” I cry before he can change his mind.

There’s no way I’m going to second guess a chance to spend a whole walk together and see his place. I’m probably stepping into dangerous territory, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I know I don’t deserve Zahir Delacroix. However, if he’s going to freely offer me his time and attention, I’m not strong enough to resist.

Zahir’s expression is hard to read, but I think he’s okay I accepted his offer by the little half smile that tweaks at his lips. “All right, then,” he says with a nod. “You got your things?”

My backpack doesn’t have much inside it. Mostly just my keys, water, sunscreen and a small towel, but I’ll at least be able to brush the sand from my feet with that. I grab the bag and my sandals before nodding back at him. “Lead the way,” I say.

In my chest, my heart gallops nervously. He’s extended an olive branch to me when he really didn’t have to. I absolutely cannot under any circumstances fuck it up.

So of course, that’s exactly what I do.