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“What if we go to the river and I teach you how to paddle board?”
“I already know how to paddle board. It’s boring as fuck. Besides, the river’s three hours away.”
“The bay then?” he asks hopefully.
“We’re going surfing, Alastor. It’s on the list.” He lets out a sigh of resignation. “Fine.”
We drive down to Torquay in Alastor’s work van. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Alastor over the past month or so, it’s that he has to be the one behind the wheel. The one time we took my car anywhere—a ten- minute trip to pick up some takeaway a couple of weeks ago—he was just as antsy sitting in the passenger seat as he was the night I drove his V8. It wasmycar. I’ve been driving it for years. I’ve never even lost a demerit point, thank you very much.
At least with Alastor’s van, though, we can easily fit two boards in. I could have probably made it work in my SUV, but it would have taken a bit of finagling.
We listen to Kylie’s greatest hits the whole way down, much to my delight and Alastor’s annoyance. At one point I manage to catch Alastor singing along to “Better the Devil You Know,” which, of course, only serves to aggravate him further.
“Just admit it—you’re a secret Kylie fan,” I tease.
“I’m not a secret anything,” he grumbles. “And if you don’t shut up about it I’m turning this off and putting AC/DC on instead.”
I shrug. “I don’t mind AC/DC. But they’e no Kylie.”
Alastor shakes his head, looking forlorn. “Just...no. There are no words right now.”
20
Alastor
Okay, I’ll admit, the surfing wasn’t as bad as I was expecting it to be. I’m still not a fan of rough water— something that was reiterated by the three times I got dunked by massive waves that Jack seemed to delight in for some reason—but it was kind of fun being swept back into shore on the board. I never actually made it onto my feet, but that was more to do with my lack of confidence than Jack’s instruction.
I was surprised at how patient and easy going he was while he tried to teach me. I kept expecting him to get frustrated with me, but he stayed totally cool, never even making fun of me when I went arse over in the water.
“You should do this,” I comment as we trudge back to the van after Jack finally declared that I’ve had enough.
He lets out a soft breath of laughter. “Surf? I do. Every chance I get.”
“No—teachsurfing. You’re really good at it.”
He quirks a pointed brow at me, and I can tell exactly what he’s thinking—I didn’t think he was that good half an hour ago when I was spewing curses at him after being dunked yet again.
“I’m serious,” I insist.
He lets out a soft sigh, a rueful smile in place. “It’s a nice idea but I can’t imagine it’d be something that actually pays the bills.”
“You won’t know unless you actually give it a go,” I point out.
He gives a non-committal shrug and I decide to leave it, sliding open the back of the van so we can put the boards in.
We strip out of our wetsuits and towel down a little before throwing on some clothes. Then we get into the front of the van.
“Can you grab me my glasses from the glove box?” I ask him, gesturing in that general direction.
My eyes are killing me from the salt water, and I know my contacts are pretty much fucked. The good news is, it’s almost the end of the month so I’m due to change them anyway .
“You wear glasses?” Jack asks, sounding incredulous.
“Contacts usually, but these ones are killing me right now.” I reach up to remove the contacts from my eyes, and for a moment everything’s fuzzy. “Glasses,” I ask, holding my hand out.
Jack hands them to me and I slide them on, breathing a sigh of relief as my vision comes back to me.
“Don’t start,” I say with a scowl, as I catch the look on Jack’s face.
