Chapter 1 Prologue/Chapter 1

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

~Heaven~

Thirty seconds remained in the heat, I needed one more decent score to make damn sure Marissa Cole couldn't knock me out of first place, and naturally, the Pacific had decided now would be an excellent time to stop producing waves.

Sitting astride my board beyond the break, I dragged my fingertips through the water while watching the horizon.

“Come on,” I murmured as another useless swell rolled beneath me. “Give me something.”

The announcer's voice carried across the water behind me, but I didn't need him telling me where I stood. My 7.63 and 6.81 had me in first, although not comfortably enough for my liking, especially with Marissa sitting deeper in the lineup with priority and needing something in the mid-sevens to jump ahead.

Which meant the next good wave belonged to her unless she chose the wrong one.

When a darker line began forming farther out, Marissa spotted it almost as quickly as I did, dropping onto her stomach and paddling into position while I watched the soft shoulder form.

She'd see it, at least, I thought she would until she checked the face and started paddling harder.

Pressing my lips together before the smile gave me away, I watched her commit.

Go ahead, Cole. That's all yours.

The second she pushed to her feet, I turned toward the swell standing behind hers, bigger, cleaner and building enough shape to send a kick of excitement through my stomach.

Marissa had just burned priority. “Thank you, Marissa,” I murmured as I dropped onto my stomach and started paddling.

The warning horn sounded from shore.

Ten seconds.

I dug harder as the swell lifted the back of my board, gave it another stroke when the nose tipped forward, then pushed up and planted my feet.

Everything on shore disappeared as I dropped into the face, drove through the bottom turn and came hard off the bottom before snapping through the lip, sending spray behind me as the board came back beneath my feet.

Landing clean, I drove down the line, cut toward the pocket, then redirected and hit the next section harder.

My right shoulder pulled when I came down.

Not now.

Changing my angle slightly, I kept moving as the wave steepened and the lip began folding over. I was already winning the heat. I could finish the ride and move into tomorrow's quarterfinal without doing anything stupid, then the barrel opened wider.

Yeah, screw that.

Dropping lower, I tucked inside as water curled over my head, shutting out the beach while blue-green light moved through the wall beside me.

God, I loved this.

The opening tightened as I drove harder, white water feathering across my vision, and for one second, I wasn't sure I'd beat it before sunlight hit my face.

I shot out the other side as the horn sounded twice from shore, laughter already breaking out of me when I kicked free and dropped into the water.

Surfacing beside my board, I hauled myself back onto it and started paddling toward shore.

“What a finish from Heaven Bailey!” the announcer shouted through the speakers. “Bailey needed a 7.12 to guarantee first place, and we're waiting on the judges now.”

My shoulder tugged when I reached forward, but one quick roll loosened it. The scar beneath my suit hadn't bothered me in months, and I wasn't giving one little complaint enough attention to start getting ideas.

“Score coming in,” the announcer called. “Heaven Bailey…an 8.24!”

My hands stopped in the water. “No shit,” I breathed as the crowd erupted and a grin spread across my face.

Hell yes!

Marissa paddled toward me, already shaking her head. “You knew,” she accused, pointing at me.

Widening my eyes, I gave her my best innocent look. “Knew what?”

“That wave was behind mine,” she replied, splashing water toward me. “You practically smiled when I took the first one.”

Wiping my cheek, I frowned at her. “I smile all the time.”

“No, you don't,” Marissa argued, laughing.

“That's hurtful, Cole,” I informed her.

“It's accurate, Bailey,” she shot back.

Laughing, I started paddling toward shore. “See you tomorrow.”

“You better hope you don't draw me again,” she called after me.

“Why?” I asked, twisting around with a grin. “Planning to choose my waves for me again?”

Marissa lifted her middle finger. I blew her a kiss and kept paddling.

By the time I reached shallow water, my stomach was reminding me that half a banana and three gulps of coffee didn't qualify as breakfast, and enough adrenaline was still buzzing beneath my skin that I couldn't stop smiling. Basically, a perfect morning.

Stepping off my board, I tucked it beneath my arm and headed toward the competitor area, where Mia stood near the barricade with both arms in the air.

“You fucking did it!” she yelled. “Eight point two fucking four!”

Laughing, I shifted my board higher. “Could you say it louder? I don't think Oregon heard you.”

“I can try,” she offered, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Don't you dare,” I warned, laughing as I reached her.

Her grin widened, but before she could test me, I noticed the man standing several feet away.

Navy polo, sunglasses, credential around his neck.

He wasn't watching the competition. He was watching me.

My steps slowed as Mia glanced toward him. Stopping beside her, I lowered my voice. “Who is that?”

“No clue,” she whispered. “He asked where he could find you.”

“That's not creepy at all,” I muttered.

“Maybe he's proposing,” she teased.

“Then he's about to have a disappointing morning,” I replied.

Mia laughed as the man started toward us. “Heaven Bailey?” he asked when he reached us.

Adjusting my board against my hip, I studied him. “Depends who's asking.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he removed his sunglasses and held out his hand. “Daniel Reeves. USA Surfing.”

Whatever smart-ass response I'd been preparing disappeared. My gaze dropped toward the USA Surfing logo on his polo before I looked at Mia.

Her eyes had gone huge.

Turning back toward Reeves, I shifted my board so I could take his hand. “Okay.”

Brilliant, Heaven. Absolutely dazzling.

A quiet laugh escaped him as he released my hand. “I've been watching you for a while.”

I blinked. “Hopefully not in the creepy way that sounded.”

Mia made a choking noise beside me.

“Competitive results, Bailey,” Reeves clarified, reaching toward the folder beneath his arm. “Oceanside last spring, Santa Cruz in June and your heats here this week.”

“Oh.” I nodded. “That makes considerably more sense.”

His mouth curved as he glanced toward the water. “That last wave didn't hurt either.”

“It felt pretty damn good,” I admitted.

“It looked better,” Reeves replied, opening the folder.

My pulse kicked as he pulled out a white envelope with my name printed across the front.

HEAVEN BAILEY

My smile disappeared.

Reeves held the envelope toward me. “I think we should talk.”