Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
He would never do an advertising campaign for any reason. He shook his head no as Skye both figuratively and literally jumped into the mix, bouncing up and down, adding her two cents to the idea. “I’m one hundred percent certain there’s a hard body underneath those clothes. I haven’t said anything because he’s so private, but Dallas talks about how hard he’s working out.” Skye caught him off guard when she came around his desk and shoved the tee’s sleeve up to reveal his entire bicep. Heat rushed over every part of his body as he flushed with embarrassment.
“This is why I don’t tell y’all anything.” Ducky swatted Skye’s hand away. Laughter from the crowd that had gathered in the doorway made him add, “We have work to do. I hear the phones ringing. Go back to your jobs. This is ridiculous. Leave me alone.” He reached for the edge of his office chair and sat. He Flintstoned his feet to drive his chair forward. He turned on his CPU, attempting to ignore them all. His system rivaled that of something inside an air traffic control tower. The hum of the machines and multiple screens coming to life comforted him in its own way.
“We embarrassed him,” Skye said, not by way of an apology but more with that dreamy motherly tone she had with all her friends.
“We did, but this is far from over. I’m talking to Dallas. He’ll agree with me,” Sara declared, leaning in to get in Ducky’s line of sight. He ignored her as he reached for his headphones. “You’re a total transformation dream.”
Of course, he heard her but pretended not to as he quickly typed in his complicated password.
“Shoo.” Skye waved her hands toward the crowd. “There’s nothing else to see,” she teased.
Relieved by Skye’s intervention, he continued to pay her no attention as he opened his email and focused on the screen. With a tap to the icon, he opened Spotify. He clicked his playlist, drowning out the world and his embarrassment with it.
A surge of energy pumped through Chad like a healing balm against all the doubts plaguing him. The breakneck speed of the wave he rode was nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline jolting through his body, slowing each second that passed down to a crawl. Time felt infinite.
The briny wall of water pushed him forward, the surfboard responding under his feet as he shifted his weight. What a fucking high. Sensory overload in a majestic, soul enhancing way. Far better than any sex he’d ever had. Maybe the best moment of his life.
His thighs and calves burned. Exhilaration rushed through his veins, making his heart hammer in his chest. This was exactly what he needed. The ocean’s roar became a tribal anthem in his head. His body acted instinctually, no time for thought to guide his way.
He let his mind go.
Too bad eighteen seconds didn’t last a little longer. The wave came to an end, closing out. Chad rode as far as he could before being dumped into the salt water. Without the roar of the wave behind him, he could hear his buddies, both in the water and on the beach, whoop with excitement. The world slammed back into his reality with the same vengeance it had escaped only moments ago.
After a day of wipeouts—many, many failed attempts—Chad let the ocean take him under with a grin etched on his face. His mind blanked of anything more than what a ride that was.
He popped out of the water. The bright sun transformed the top of the water into blue sparkling crystals for as far as the eye could see. He let himself be hypnotized by the beauty. He dropped back underwater and stretched his body out, swimming the few feet to shore until he could easily stand on the sandy bottom. Damn, if he were going to go pro with any sport, why the hell couldn’t it have been surfing?
Chad grinned at the easy answer. Dallas, Texas, his hometown, was landlocked. As a kid, his only chance to surf was at Hurricane Harbor’s water park where he had gone to impress the girls with his crazy skill. The ridiculous memory widened his grin as he grabbed his board and trudged toward shore. His buddies met him with all the exuberance that only came from catching the perfect wave after so many failed attempts.
“Bruh, that was sick. That wave was off the hook,” Clay, one of Kai’s longtime friends, said, reaching out for a congratulatory hand slap with Chad.
“Yeah, I didn’t think it was going to happen for me today,” Chad said, slogging through the wet sand at his feet.
“Kai said you had it in you,” another one of his friends said as he ran up on Chad. “You kicked it up a notch. I almost saw your fins on that turn.” These were true compliments coming from a team of guys who had probably surfed seventy percent of their lives. His chest swelled. He did feel like a badass for what he’d just done.