Her eyes open but she doesn’t answer. “And the irony is, you did crash and disappear from his life right when filming started, like I hoped. You couldn’t even skateboard, like I’d wanted. But that didn’t change anything.”

  I sense someone joining us on the deck, but my eyes don’t leave Camila because she’s now walking toward the edge of the balcony.

  “I’ll never have any of it. No matter what I do, no matter how much I’m willing to sacrifice, I’ll always be the loser.”

  It’s not until she starts climbing the railing that I’m jolted to action.

  “Camila, no! What are you doing?”

  She doesn’t answer, and when I try to grab her arm, she pushes me off with more force than I’m expecting. Stumbling back, by the time I gain my footing, she’s sitting on the ledge. Her feet dangle over the other side, a five-story drop below.

  My next breaths are shallow and accompanied by a strong need to throw up. Since I haven’t had anything to eat in several hours, nothing actually comes up when my stomach clenches.

  “Why are you doing this, Camila?” I ask, unable to hide the desperation in my voice. If I ask her questions, she’ll answer, right? And if I can stall her, maybe I can get her to come down somehow.

  “You’ll never understand. You have it all, and I’ve got nothing. No sponsors, no promise of a career, not even the interest of the right guys. It started with Beck, but now you’ve taken everything I’ve ever wanted. You win.”

  “No, Camila, that’s not true,” I start, scrambling to try to explain how much she has going for her, but uncertain how to talk someone off a literal ledge.

  Another voice joins us. “This is my fault.”

  My eyes snap to Sarah Kase, who is approaching slowly, but hasn’t stopped moving as she gets closer to the balcony.

  A bizarre sound erupts from Camila, some sort of painful cackle. “It was you first I’d never live up to, so it makes sense you’re here to see me give up and end it all.”

  “I was a bitch. I rubbed it in,” Sarah says. “But it was only because I was jealous of you, Camila. I might beat you at comps, but you’re the one who turns heads. So many girls in there are jealous of you Camila, believe me. You have so much going for you. Please come down and have dinner with us.”

  Camila looks over her shoulder. She starts to move, and my heart jumps into my throat. Now she’s up on her knees. “No, it’s over. I’ll never be good enough,” she says so quietly I barely make out the words. She’s talking to herself now, and Sarah and I share alarmed expressions. Camila turns her head to look back over the edge and begins to stand. “I’m going to jump.”

  In unspoken agreement, Sarah and I move forward, each grabbing one side of Camila. Our sudden and quick movements are risky, probably ill-advised, but it’s as if we both hear the silent shouting in the air, “Now or never!”

  Camila yelps and begins to dive forward, but we’ve got her by the waist and legs. She’s not going over. Not today.

  Beck

  I’m looking for Camila or Jordan at the table when I hear screaming from the deck outside. My heart in my throat, I run.

  My knees almost buckle at the sight in front of me. At first, it looks like Sarah Kase and Jordan are holding Camila over the balcony railing. But then I realize they are trying to pull her back over to the deck. I rush forward to help, and when Camila hears my voice, she stills, allowing us to slide her to safety. Actually, she clings to me, her arms around my neck as she begins to cry.

  I’m only half paying attention to the hysterical woman shaking in my arms. My eyes are on Jordan, whose skin is pale. I put a hand out to hold hers, and find her palm cold and clammy.

  “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?” I ask Jordan, my voice thick with emotion.

  Jordan parts her lips, but it’s Camila who answers. “Oh Beck, I’m so glad you came. You’re here.”

  Before I can process what’s happening, a security guard joins us and asks what’s going on.

  Sarah Kase is the one to answer him. She points to Camila, who is clinging to me. “She was on the balcony and said she was going to jump. We grabbed her and pulled her back.”

  Camila’s head snaps up. “He saved me. Beck saved me.”

  It’s then I start to peel her off of me. With a guard here, she should be safe. I’d be surprised if he has much training to prepare for this kind of situation, but I think I’ve played my role. At least for Camila’s safety, that is. It’s Jordan I need to comfort. But she shakes her head when I reach for her, eyes darting to Camila.

  Sarah puts a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Go inside with Beck. I’ll handle this.”

  Jordan shoots Sarah a grateful look before following her order, but she doesn’t take my hand until we’re inside and out of sight of Camila. Two EMTs move quickly through the restaurant as I pull Jordan to a more private corner.

  “Jordan,” I choke out her name. “When I said you keep amazing me, this isn’t the kind of thing I had in mind.”

  I wrap my arms gently around her waist and pull her to my chest as I see tears begin to streak down her cheeks.

  “Beck?”

  “Yeah.” I squeeze her tighter, my eyes burning with the need to shed tears of my own. “I think we should look into getting a camper van with a toilet and a shower, I feel like I deserve that luxury after being held at gunpoint by one stalker and saving another from jumping five stories.”

  I nod, surrendering to a few hot tears and not caring if anyone sees this vulnerability. “Griff did say he was thinking about getting you a vehicle of your own if you won the X Games.”

  She rests her head on my chest and I let my strong, amazing girl cry. To anyone else, it might look like she’s breaking, but I know better.

  “Camila was bubblerollie,” she tells me. “It makes sense now, as much as a stunt like that and everything leading up to it can make sense,” she adds.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell her after a few minutes, kissing the top of her head. I can hear some commotion outside from the EMTs dealing with Camila and I know we’ll have to answer questions soon.

  “Stop. Please don’t even try to take on any bit of responsibility, Beck.” She lifts her head. “If I haven’t said it before, I’m living my dream, being with you and skateboarding and all of it. While I didn’t expect this kind of thing to be the cost I had to pay to get it, I survived. We survived. We’ve got our next adventure ahead, and I can do it guilt-free now, knowing I’ve suffered sufficiently.” She smiles, the quiver in her lips the only indication that she’s masking distress with a little humor.

  “And there you go, amazing me again,” I murmur, in awe of the woman in my arms.

  “I want to amaze you for the rest of our lives,” she whispers.

  My heart swells. She’s just told me in so many words she’s accepting my proposal to road trip for the next year. Is it too soon for another kind of proposal? Fuck it. Timing doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to us.

  “When can we get married? I’m ready tomorrow if you are.”

  It’s a lame proposal, but it makes her smile, and laugh. That’ll do, for now.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Jordan

  The wind whips around us as we make our way up the stairs to the top of the Riptide half pipe. There’s no fear or anxiety as I stand with my board in hand, looking out at the ocean on one side, the park on another, and the gigantic vertical drop below me. I’m not exactly calm either, but I’m ready.

  All I’m planning to do is drop in, hit the coping on the other side once, and ride partway up this side of the vert before slowing to a stop. It’s almost too easy, and I know I’ll be tempted to keep going and screw my conservative plans, but I’m sticking to it. I’ve got plenty of time to show Riptide who’s boss. For now, I just need to successfully drop in and ride for a few seconds without crashing. I might have conquered some of my anxiety, but it’s still my old friend, coming out occasionally.

  There haven’t been any social media threats like the ones from Camila or Fliss, but there are still haters or, on the flip side, fans who are a little too enthusiastic for comfort. It comes with the territory, and if it’s part of the price I have to pay for this life, I can learn to deal.

  Crashes are another part of the skateboarding life, but when it comes to Riptide, I’m determined to be smarter this time around.

  Beck squeezes my hand. “Want me to go first?”

  I look over at the guy I’ve slept beside every night for the past year. I was worried we might get sick of each other, or that life on the road, with breaks only to get on a plane to travel overseas for competitions, would wear on us and our relationship. I worried it wouldn’t be nearly as fun as we’d hoped. I was wrong, and I’m trying to get better about not worrying so much. Life on the road suits us. And I should have known we just fit; wherever we go and whatever we’re doing, it’s easy. Being together has always been easy.

  “I’ll go first. Like I said, I’m seriously just dropping in, going up the other side, and slowing to a stop.”

  “This time,” Beck says with a knowing smile.

  “This time.”

  I give him a quick kiss, drop my board to the platform, and take a deep breath. With a long look at the ramp that used to haunt me, I tip forward and zoom down. My stomach flips from the extreme angle or, more likely, the nerves I was pretending didn’t exist a second ago, but my legs remain steady. The vert on the other side is the same size as dozens of ramps I’ve been on over the past year, and despite the significance of this particular pipe, I skate up to the coping for a smooth kickturn before riding down. I’m not tucked low to get my speed up for riding up the other side. Instead I stand tall, letting my momentum die down until I come to a stop in the middle of the half pipe. It should be anticlimactic, but I’m satisfied. For now.

  Beck calls down to me. “Stay there!”

  He looks like he’s about to drop in and I start to pick up my board, confused. “Right here? Why?”

  “It’s the spot where we met. I want to get a kiss.”

  I glance around, confirming no one’s in sight. We slept in our camper in the parking lot, just like he did the night before we first met and he spied on me. The sun is still rising, and we’ve got the park to ourselves.

  As Beck slows to a stop in front of me, I tease him, “You want me to take position lying on my back again too? Maybe you can carry me back to the van and everything.”

  Beck purses his lips. “Actually yeah, good idea.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I used to have naughty dreams about that, except when we got back to the van, we didn’t just sit around talking.”

  That makes me giggle. And then I roll my eyes at myself. I can’t believe he still makes me giggle like this. I also can’t believe I’m now getting down and lying on my back like I was when he found me after my first crash.

  Beck takes position kneeling beside me. He strokes my forehead and unbuckles my helmet.

  “Jordan. You amaze me every day, and I want you to keep amazing me for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

  My head pops up so fast that my vision blurs a little just like it did that first day we met. Sure enough, he’s holding out a ring.

  “We can’t do it tomorrow, Beck, we’re headed to the X Games.”

  Beck looks confused for a second before he gives me a little smile. “I’d rather have a real wedding anyway, with everyone we love there to party with us.”

  I put my hand out. “Yes, Beck, I’ll marry you, and I can’t guarantee I’ll keep amazing you every day, but can you promise to keep making my dreams come true?”

  He slips the ring on my finger and closes his eyes as he does, like he’s savoring the moment.

  When he opens them, I recall how striking it was to see those blues for the first time in person. “No, Jordan. You make your own dreams come true.”

  Then he lifts me up, carrying me just like I remember from our first encounter. “Looks like we’re making your dreams come true today,” I point out when we reach the camper and head straight for the bed. Beck takes my chin in his hand but before he can kiss me I admit on a whisper, “But it’s okay, all of this is my dream too.”

  He smiles. “We make it easy, sharing the same dreams.”

  Epilogue 2

  Lots of years later

  Beck

  “Mom’s crazy,” Everett, our six-year-old, says as we watch her rip up and down the Riptide half pipe.

  “Just because you’re too scared to even go all the way up the steps and stand at the top doesn’t mean she’s crazy,” Ruby, his older sister by two years, sasses.

  I ignore their sibling banter as I watch my wife. Our general parenting approach is to let the two bicker on their own unless it crosses some line of disrespect or noise level we can’t handle. Or if Everett punches Ruby, even if she sometimes might kind of deserve it. No idea where the level of sass in that girl came from, but boy can she dish it when she’s in the mood.

  Jordan finishes her run, grabs her board, and walks toward us.

  “Are you going to pick her up and kiss her again?” Ruby asks.

  “Thinking about it. But you did pretend to gag when I did it last year.”

  Ruby shrugs and crosses her arms. “Whatever, I guess it’s cool.”

  Everett just laughs. “But then can we get going? I want to start driving!”

  Each summer we drive cross-country and stop at skateparks and campgrounds along the way. Our final destination is Connecticut, where we visit with Jordan’s parents and her friends who still live in her hometown. It’s become a tradition of sorts to hit up Riptide Skatepark before we begin the first leg of our journey.

  Jordan’s little smile when our eyes lock tells me she knows I won’t be able to help myself with the other part of our tradition. In two long strides I close the space and scoop her up in my arms.

  “You still amaze me every day,” I tell her, meaning it.

  “My dreams are still coming true every day,” she responds with what I can only describe as a dopey smile. I know she gets a little giddy every time she shreds Riptide but I like to tell myself part of her dazed expression right now isn’t from the adrenaline rush on the half pipe, but from this moment with me.

  “Even when Everett pees his bed in the camper tonight?” He never does it at home anymore but ever since he was out of diapers, the first night on the road each trip he does it without fail.

  “Even then.”

  “What about when Ruby climbs into bed with us right when I’m trying to get you naked later?” I whisper, glancing over at the kids, who have started skating back to the van and the camper attached behind it. Ruby glances over her shoulder, her signature dash of defiance replaced with a softer look. She understands our love for each other and our family, how deep and special it is.

  “She’ll fall asleep eventually and after you move her back to her bunk I’ll still be there waiting for you to make my dreams come true.” She waggles her eyebrows.

  Ruby acts tough, but she also takes a couple nights of adjustment to the camper before she settles in.

  I go in for a long kiss before putting her down. We hop on our skateboards, share one more look at the place where we met all those years ago, and grab hands before taking off after our kids. The challenges in our lives change minute to minute, day to day, year by year. There’s no one else I’d rather face them with than this woman beside me.

  Sneak Peek

  Defiance Falls Chapter 1

  Dad walked by right as I was checking out how my ass looked in the mirror.

  He had a beer halfway to his mouth but he paused and narrowed his eyes. Then he looked at his watch.

  “Are you going somewhere, Hazel?” Dad didn’t hide his confusion. It was nine PM on a Monday night.

  I took a deep breath and turned to face him. I had gone back and forth on this but decided I wouldn’t lie. I’d spent years building up trust with Dad.

  “I’m going to a birthday party.”

  Dad’s frown deepened. He took a sip of beer. I waited, my heart racing.

  He continued studying me as he swallowed. “Whose birthday?”

  Shit. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that. “Cruz Donovan. He’s turning eighteen.”

  Dad rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes met mine and I smiled, knowing it always made him soften. I looked into green eyes that matched my own, the color so deep it sucked me in, even if it was the same shade I saw in the mirror every day.

  “Fine. Your cousins will be there then. They know you’re coming?”

  I shifted, biting my lip. “Not yet. I’ll text them.”

  Dad nodded. “I’ll text them too.”

  Then he lowered his chin and put his hands on his hips, his signature dad-mode pose. His eyes skimmed over me. “You can’t wear that.”

  “Dad!”

  “Don’t ‘Dad’ me. You go to this party and these are my rules. One, change into something that’s…” Dad’s voice drifted off as he struggled to find the right words. He blew out a puff of air. “Can you wear your soccer clothes or something?”

  I stared at him.

  He sighed again, then walked down the hall and grabbed a flannel shirt from the clean laundry bin waiting by his bedroom door. “Just, wear this, okay? I know you’re going to take it off as soon as you get there but it will make me feel better. I can’t let you leave the house in that.”

  I rolled my eyes but put on the flannel. It dropped to my knees. My outfit wasn’t that revealing. I mean, it kind of was, but whatever.

  “Two, no drinking and driving. If you drink and need a ride, call me. Don’t get a ride with anyone who’s been drinking either.”

  I nodded, trying not to grin.

  “Third,” he said and then stopped. His shoulders sagged. “Never mind. You’re smart. Just, be smart, sweetie.”