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paranoid junkie about
to get her fix. “What’d you tell them?”
    He sighs. “I told them I was a legal adult
now, and they have no control over me. And I told them I’d really
made something of myself and I’d chased after a big dream and made
it my reality. I even offered to move them out here so they could
be part of my life.”
    Part of me wishes Vin would step outside and
eavesdrop anyway. He’ll flip out when he hears that Colby’s parents
have a lawyer and may go after the store, but I just wish he could
hear what Colby has to say. He’s calm, collected, and is being a
mature adult about the whole thing. This is the side of Colby that
continually gives me hope.
    “So they don’t want to be part of this?” I
ask, making that assumption from their ultimatum.
    “No,” Colby says. “They said if I didn’t go
back, they planned to sue me for emotional damage plus
reimbursement for all the money they put into search efforts,
payment to their private investigator, and lawyer fees.”
    Since he doesn’t make mention of Drenaline
Surf or Shark, I decide not to bring it up. Not yet anyway. I don’t
want to toss fuel onto the fire until I absolutely have to.
    “It gets better,” Colby continues. “When I
told them I wasn’t playing their games, my dad said, ‘Who in the
hell do you think you are?’ I told him ‘Colby fucking Taylor’ and
walked out.”
    Yeah, definitely not adding fuel to that fire. I don’t blame him. I really and truly don’t. This
is his life, his future, his career. He has to take a stand, even
if it means pulling a lot of people into the flames with him.
    “Okay, so they’re coming for you,” I say.
“They had their lawyer with them last night at the press
conference, so they’ve clearly thought this out. Let me go in and
talk to Vin first. Just wait outside for a few minutes.”
    He nods and remains against the fruit stand,
eyes closed and face to the sunshine. I hope he stays in this zen
mode when he finally goes inside and talks to Vin as well.
     
    The front entrance of Drenaline Surf is
locked, but Miles sees me through the glass and lets me in. I’m not
sure what my opening line will be when I pull Vin into the back
office and warn him of all the damage that’s about to unfold across
the shores of Crescent Cove. I just need to think of that line
before I reach Vin.
    But all thoughts of Colby and drama dissolve
for half a second when I remember why this meeting is even
happening. He smiles at me from the other side of the checkout
counter, standing next to Vin.
    Logan Riley is pretty much everything I
imagined him to be. Lighter brunette, decent tan, medium build, and
a Crest commercial kind of smile. He’s got that marketable model
look, like someone you could imagine in a Macy’s ad as easily as on
the cover of Shaka Magazine. He’s the very opposite of Colby’s
disheveled ‘just got out of bed and went surfing’ exterior. He’s
put together. The surfer fangirls are going to die for him.
    “Haley,” Vin says, motioning me toward them.
“I want you to meet our newest Drenaline Surf surfer, Logan
Riley.”
    My legs are anchors dragging along the ocean
floor as I try to walk across the room. Logan says something about
how it’s nice to meet me and extends a hand over the counter. He
was more attractive at a distance. Up close, his eyes have dark
circles under them. Maybe he just needs more sleep, but I swear,
he’s aged in my trip across the store.
    I remind myself to keep smiling and ask Vin
if I can have a minute. He nods and gestures toward the office,
leaving Miles and Logan in the main room. I lean back and semi-sit
on the desk, but Vin stands.
    “I’m sorry,” he says immediately after he
closes the door. “I’ve been swamped here, and I know that’s no
excuse. It’s just tough here during the summer.”
    When I try to interrupt, he holds up a hand
to let me know he’s not through talking. I hate to tell him, but I
really don’t give a damn