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A woman down on the sand stood and wiped her hands on her very fine ass. The scrap of bikini bottom didn’t leave much to the imagination.No tan line. She twisted and gave Zane a peek at her well-endowed front side. “You sure I can’t pick my own date?” he asked.
Bryce followed his line of vision. “Eight days, dude. I think you can play tame for eight damn days.”
“Youcan. But this,” he teased, gesturing down his bare torso, “is a chick magnet, and you know how I hate to turn away interested parties.” Truth was, Bryce might be the complete opposite of Zane, with his dark hair and eyes, but he had his pick of the ladies, too. He was just more discreet about it.
“Yeah, sucks being you.” Bryce shifted in his chair. “Listen, there’s one other thing. Keep your distance from any troublemakers. The last thing we need is another altercation.”
Zane swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. A few weeks ago, one of the new guys on the tour had thrown a punch at him over a girl. Zane refused to raise his fist in return, but word had spread about the fight and cast them both in a negative light.
“No worries there,” Zane said.
“You’re currently at the top of the world rankings, and I’d like to see you hold on to that spot without any mention of bad blood between you and someone else.”
Zane would, too. But would it crush him if he slipped to second, third, or even fourth? Missing his shot with SHE would hurt more. He’d been the underdog enough times to know he could win that top spot back.
The sun reached its peak, and he and Bryce lifted their sunglasses from the table and slid them on. Daylight glittered off the waves; pelicans scoped out the sand in search of lunch food left forgotten.
“The latest mention inSurferdeems you surfing’s version of David Beckham,” Bryce added. “When this thing with SHE happens, you’ll be the Muhammad Ali.”
“You and Danny really think I can do this?” He ran his hands down his board shorts.
“Of course. You think we would’ve stuck around all these years if we didn’t believe in you?”
Best friends since sixth grade, they’d gone to school together, surfed together, gotten into mischief together. They had one another’s backs, lied to keep one another out of too much trouble. And they had never begrudged Zane’s skill in the water. When he left to make it in the surfing world—and to escape his dad—Bryce and Danny had started a fan club. They kept up with his competitions and never let his successes go to his head. It got harder to stay in touch, but when his best friends graduated at the top of their business school classes, it wasn’t long before the three were back together and tighter than ever.
“You reading those sports psychology books again?”
“Dude, if I could figure out your head, we’d rule more than the surfing world.”
Zane laughed to cover how ill at ease he was at that. Some days he lived in slow-motion, out there in the water feeling an almost supernatural connection to the sea. Other days he felt like one of the masses, unable to find his footing on the board if his life depended on it. He tapped the side of his head with his finger. “What goes on in here stays in here.”
Bryce’s cell buzzed. He lifted his shades and glanced at the phone. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Beers tonight at the Happy Harpoon.”
“That’s perfect. It’s mostly locals. Low key. I’ll text Danny.” His fingers sped across his phone screen. “Still, you might want to keep your head down.”
“I’m capable of drinking a few ales and keeping myself in check.”
“Not you I’m worried about so much as the women eager to say they’ve been Zaned. You know there’re T-shirts that sayI’ve been ZANED.”
He did know. A woman on the beach this morning had one on. Lots of interpretations went along with it, and Zane never bothered to correct any of them. Let the fans say what they wanted. To curb someone’s enthusiasm, whether it was truth or not, didn’t interest him. The smiles on their faces did.
Bryce put down his phone. “Danny just finished lunch with the city council president and arranged something for later in the week. Tonight he’s meeting with the new film festival coordinator to set up a special prescreening event.” He took a sip of his drink.
“There’s a new coordinator?” A hot blonde who worked for a company based out of Los Angeles had handled the past couple of years.
“Yeah. From some notable special events firm based out of Montana. In fact, she’s your surf lesson this afternoon.”
Zane groaned, not because Danny always volunteered him for a few lessons when he visited beach communities, but Montana? Did she know the difference between a surfboard and a snowboard?
“Be nice.” Bryce pushed up from his seat. “But not too nice.”
“I can do the perfect nice.” Zane stood and pulled his shoulders back in a stretch. “This coordinator have a name?”
“Sophie Birch.”
Her name had a nice ring to it. “Count on Sophie Birch being Zaned.”
