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He shrugs, pushing his kayak down at the edge of the very unsettled water before he looks up at me again.
Even Molly has her ears back, studying him like she’s trying to decide if his stupidity is a threat. I’m sure it’s just my mood rubbing off when she’s extremely sensitive, but ugh.
I can’t believe this.
“If you want to do good, Miss Intrusive, kindly butt the hell out and let me enjoy my day,” he says.
Yep.
He’s officially the rudest, coldest, most reckless man I’ve ever met. Part of me wants to give him a friendly push right into the storm the rest of me is working so hard to keep him from.
Decisions, decisions.
“Whatever.” I try to say it nonchalantly, hating how much anger creeps into my voice. “Pardon me for giving two shits about saving your life.”
The waves slap the shore too close to us again, and I can’t hear all of his response clearly as Molly shakes off the water.
But it sounds like “...you’d do better to care more about your dog. Get her the hell away from the water and stop pecking at strangers who don’t need saving.”
I’m actually speechless as I watch him push away, climbing a ten-foot-tall wave less than a minute after he’s on the water.
It’s not remotely safe.
He’s a ginormous idiot and a half.
Only, I guess I’m the bigger one for standing there and taking his abuse. If he doesn’t give a damn about his safety, why should I?
This man is either wackadoodle or as wildly overconfident as he is short-fused.
Still, I squint at him as he fades into the choppy waves, certain he’s on the verge of needing a rescue any second.
When I’m right, I’ll do him a favor and call it in.
I peel off my windbreaker and throw it around Molly while we watch and wait.
I don’t mind the chill. In fact, it helps cool my blood a little after this massive prick made it boil.
I’m honestly mad that he’s fighting the waves as well as he is.
Slowly, calmly, like he lives for nothing but spitting in the face of danger.
The raw power in his controlled movements feels angry, like someone with something to prove to the universe.
Holy hell, no.
No, this can’t be blind arrogance.
This is more likerage,a fury taken out on the ocean itself because nothing else is strong enough to withstand him.
I watch in irritated awe for a few more minutes with my heart climbing up my throat.
I’m expecting him to weaken any time as his muscles fail him, to show me a satisfying flicker of fear.
Any second now.
...it never happens.
Somehow, this maniac withstands the ocean, climbing over every swell, grinding his way toward Blake Island a few brutal crawling feet at a time.
