“I’m not ready yet. You haven’t told anyone else, have you?”

  They both shake their heads. “No way,” Moses tells me putting out a fist for me to bump. “But I couldn’t hold back congratulating you.”

  “It’s really incredible, Jordan,” Lennon adds. “Are you planning to tell the world someday or are we keeping this a secret forever?”

  I puff out my cheeks and blow out air, figuring I might as well spill the rest of the beans. “I want to keep practicing until I get it down. And then I’m hoping to go for it at the X Games for the first time.”

  “Nice,” Moses says with obvious respect.

  Lennon’s eyes go wide and her voice is practically a whisper when she says, “That would be epic.”

  “But don’t mention it again because honestly my heart is racing just telling you this and I don’t want any added pressure in case I change my mind. It’s just kind of a goal right now, or maybe more like a dream. I’m not a big fan of trying tricks at contests if I’m not confident I can nail them.” I laugh and roll my eyes at myself. “I say that as if I’ve been at a ton of contests. I’m still a newbie and playing it conservative.”

  “I wouldn’t call a 720 conservative,” Moses says slowly, like I might be a little delusional.

  “Nothing about the way you skateboard is conservative,” Lennon tells me and I hear the admiration in her tone.

  I’m now swaying firmly on the confidence side, far away from imposter syndrome. As we make our way out of the water to grab some food, I know that those insecurities are losing their pull on me. It hasn’t happened overnight and maybe they will always be there on really bad days, but most of the time, I’m walking in confidence that I might actually be worthy of some of the respect and admiration from people like Lennon and Moses. People I look up to.

  I was okay taking a chill weekend but now I’ve got the itch to get back after the 720 on vert. With Griff sharing his thoughts that I can do more than just show up at the X Games, that I can make a real impression, and Lennon and Moses confiding they know just what I’ve got up my sleeve, it’ll be a struggle to fight that tunnel vision the rest of the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Beck

  I miss Jordan. Badly. Ever since she returned to California, our longest stretches without being together were three days while she was in classes and I was working. It’s already been three days, and I’ve got four more to go. A full week. Brutal. I said goodbye to her on Tuesday morning before she went to class and I went to work. She left for Fusion Bowl in Vancouver on Wednesday after classes and I left this morning to drive to LA for Eileen’s show. We film today, Thursday, and the show airs on Saturday. I’m staying through the weekend though so I can meet with Eileen’s girlfriend Whitney about Brazen partnering with her foundation.

  It’s never fun being apart from Jordan for long, but instead of the normal annoyance that usually accompanies my foolishness for that girl, this time it’s a bit of satisfaction. Yes, that’s right, satisfaction. Over the past few weeks, or months, or who knows exactly the timing, I’ve accepted that when it comes to Jordan, I am absolutely 100% that guy. A fool. Whipped. Whatever people call it that makes it sound like a bad thing. But I know it’s not a bad thing. I’m lucky. I found my person, I’m devoted to her, and while it might cause me a bit of agony, it’s also something others spend their whole lives searching for. For Jordan and me, it’s simple. We’re happiest together.

  And now here I am, sitting in an armchair beside Eileen Delarosa, cameras around us, and an audience watching. I’m not really paying attention to our surroundings though. As my younger sister informed me, Eileen will make me feel like it’s just the two of us chatting and having a nice conversation. No clue how my not-quite-seventeen-year-old sister would know this, but as usual, she was right.

  “So, we’ve talked about skateboarding. We’ve talked about Brazen. Your family. Your extremely attractive best friend. What else is there?” Eileen feigns confusion as she taps her chin. “Oh! I know. Your love life.”

  There’s laughter in the background, and I smile. “You do have one of those, right? A love life?”

  My smile deepens. “I do. Her name is Jordan Slattery.”

  “So, tell us about her. How’d you meet?”

  “We met at Riptide Skatepark. It was early in the morning and both of us wanted the park to ourselves. I basically spied on her for a while before finally approaching her.”

  “Spied on her? She didn’t see you?”

  I didn’t talk to Jordan about how many details I’d share, but I keep the part about her falling out of it. “No, I was in my van when I spotted her and she was in the zone, skating.”

  Eileen leans forward, elbows on knees, chin in hands, intensely interested.

  “And then I realized she was seven years younger than me and friend-zoned her for a while.”

  There’s a collective “ahhh” or “ohhhh” from the audience.

  “You’re not friends anymore though, right?”

  “Oh, we’re friends. But we’re also more than friends.”

  “I see.” Eileen lets this sit for a moment, presumably for the viewers to speculate. “Her skateboard career is just taking off while you’re at your prime, but also, as we’ve discussed, you’re transitioning to spend time as the Vice President of Brazen. What do you see in the future for you and your more-than-friend situation with Jordan?”

  I’m not sure why I’m being quite so honest here, and how Eileen manages to get me to say it. Maybe it’s because I want the world to know Jordan is it for me. “I’d marry her tomorrow if she let me.”

  Eileen’s mouth drops open and I hear gasps all around us. For dramatic effect, she opens and closes her mouth like a fish a few times.

  “Well Beckett, I believe you’ve broken a few hearts this evening, but I for one wish you two all the best. From what I’ve seen of your Jordan, she’s something special.”

  I could easily talk about Jordan and all that makes her special, but I simply say, “She is,” with a meaningful smile. Hopefully Eileen can read my mind and understand that I’ve shared all that I want to on international television for the time being. It’s one thing to proclaim I’m all in with Jordan, but another to have to respond to more specific questions.

  Eileen must know that she’s already gotten the best out of me on that subject, and easily segues to my next competition at the X Games, where Jordan will also be competing in her first X Games.

  After the show wraps up, I spend some time talking to people in the audience and the crew. Griff and I brought our sisters, and we take them out for dinner in downtown LA. I’m expecting some questions about my declaration that I’m ready to marry Jordan, but I guess I didn’t take this group by surprise because it doesn’t come up. It’s hard to stay in the moment, since I’m checking my phone every few minutes for texts or calls from Jordan. We head back to our hotel, and the girls want to hit up the pool, so Griff agrees to go with them to supervise. I might head down too, but I’m still hoping to touch base with Jordan.

  Griff slaps a hand on my back as he leaves our room. “She made it to the finals tomorrow, man. I’m sure she figured you were at the show and tied up.”

  “I wasn’t worried she didn’t make the finals, I knew she would.” Some guys would be embarrassed to be called out on their frantic phone checking, but I’m way past that. I don’t bother telling him that I’d expect at least a goodnight text before bedtime, but we did talk earlier today. I check the time and shoot her one in case she’s still awake.

  Call if you’re still up. Miss you.

  My phone rings not five seconds later.

  “Hey Hotshot,” I answer.

  “Uh, Beck?” That’s not Jordan’s voice.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Camila.” I pull the phone from my ear to confirm it’s Jordan’s number and that I wasn’t imagining it.

  “What are you doing on Jordan’s phone?”

  “A bunch of us girls went out after the prelims today. We’re at a bar and she left her phone. I didn’t have her passcode to get in and call you and no one else has her number. If you know where she’s staying I can bring it to her.”

  “She left without her phone? How’d she get back to her hotel?”

  My heart races, and while the rational side of my brain says this isn’t a big deal and to calm the fuck down, my body’s gone into fight or flight mode. It sure doesn’t help that it’s Camila, of all people, with my girlfriend’s phone. The same chick who tried repeatedly, daily, to get with me on Shred Live.

  “I’m not sure actually. Do you know if she’s staying at the Marriott? It’s like a block from this bar so she could have walked.”

  I actually don’t know where she’s staying. Griff might know, but probably not.

  “I’m sure she’ll realize she left her phone and come back to get it soon. How long ago did she leave?”

  “Only fifteen minutes or so.”

  I can’t help but be a little suspicious of the situation, but I do hear noise in the background that sounds like a bar. “Who all is there?”

  Jordan’s at the competition solo. Her roommates couldn’t justify the time off from school and their jobs, or the travel expense. Brie’s not at this competition and Moses, Lennon, and Taylor are at Apexx in Florida. Wait.

  I interrupt Camila, who is listing off the women who were at the bar with them. “I thought you were going to Apexx this weekend? I thought everyone from Shred Live would be there?” Except me.

  “Oh, I pulled out and decided to come to Fusion instead.”

  When she doesn’t offer an explanation, I ask, “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.” I hear the noises in the background fade and figure she went outside or somewhere. I’m not real eager to spend time on the phone with her when I want to hang up and find where Jordan is staying so I can call her room, but I figure I should take this time to try to figure out Camila’s deal. It’s definitely safer to talk by phone than it is being next to the predatory woman in person.

  “What’s complicated about it?”

  “It’s Donnie. I made the mistake of being a little too nice to him and now he wants, well, he wants to be a couple? I can’t shake him off.”

  “So you pulled out of his event at the last minute to go to another one?” I clarify, not needing to spell out how dumb that is. Donnie Guzman is one of those rare guys who isn’t well liked, but manages to wield a lot of power. A bully, I guess you could call him. A manipulator. I’ve heard enough stories about him screwing people over that I play along to avoid getting on his shit list.

  “Yeah, I figure at this point the only way to get him to back off is to piss him off.”

  An unwanted spike of alarm goes off at that, because his attention on Camila must be real bad for her to take this option. But even as her explanation causes me unease on her behalf, I make myself dismiss it. It’s not my job to protect her. She’s mean, possibly a cheater, and also quite possibly a little unhinged if her behavior toward me on Shred Live is any indicator. Either that or blindly ambitious, willing to do anything to further her career. But if that’s the case, she wouldn’t be intentionally pissing off Donnie Guzman. I shake my head; this isn’t a conundrum I need to resolve. What I need to be doing is finding Jordan and making sure she’s okay.

  “I’ll try to track down Jordan and let her know you’ve got her phone.”

  Camila doesn’t answer right away, but her tone is a little different, less pitiful and more resolved, when she responds. “Okay. You have my number. Or, you have Jordan’s number on this phone. I’ll hold on to it.”

  “Thanks.” I hang up without a goodbye.

  I find Griff and our sisters outside at the pool. It’s a good thing Griff is there because it looks like some college athletic team – likely basketball by the height of the guys – is hanging out, drinking. Sure there are already plenty of women with them, but Naomi and Summer don’t necessarily look underage anymore. And while they’re smart girls, they’re also way too ready to grow up and have all the experiences.

  Griff nods to me from where he sits on the pool’s edge, watching our sisters float around the deep end on one of those giant flamingos.

  “Do you know where Jordan is staying in Vancouver?”

  Griff shakes his head. “No, my assistant set it up for her. You need me to find out?”

  “Yeah. She left her phone at a bar.”

  “A bar?” Griff’s eyebrows rise in surprise.

  “I guess a bunch of the pro women went out together after the prelims today. She doesn’t have any friends with her so maybe she just wanted to connect, get to know people.” The guys have their prelims tomorrow, so she’s basically got a day off. I know she’s planning to use the day to watch the men, get a better feel for the course, and then do some homework so she doesn’t get too far behind. But I also get why she wouldn’t want to go back to an empty hotel room too early after the rush from competing. Besides, most of the pro women are pretty cool chicks. It just so happens she’s met the main exceptions – Sarah, Camila and Kelly.

  Griff makes a call to his assistant but leaves a voicemail, and then sends a text. “It’s late, and it’s kind of shitty to hear from your boss on a Saturday night,” Griff tells me when I let out a sound of frustration.

  “I’ll try the Marriott. Camila said it’s nearby and a lot of people are staying there.”

  “Camila?” Griff sits up straighter.

  “Yeah, she’s the one who answered Jordan’s phone.” I shoot him a look that says, See? My slight desperation is totally justified.

  “Huh. Thought she and the Shred Live crew were at Apexx.”

  I don’t answer him, as I’m already calling the front desk at the Marriott. I let out a relieved breath when they don’t tell me there’s no Jordan Slattery and instead transfer my call. But when no one answers her room phone, my relief is short-lived. Various scenarios circle in my mind. If she walked home and it’s only a block, she should be there by now. She could have been accosted on the way back. Or maybe Camila is up to something sinister.

  Griff hops up to stand beside me. “Dude, calm down. I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon. I bet she’s on her way back to the bar right now to get her phone.”

  I take a deep breath. “Five minutes. I’m giving it five minutes. Then we’re calling everyone we know at the competition and starting a search party.”

  Griff gives me a wry smile. “Let’s not humiliate her in front of the people she’s just starting to be accepted by, all right? She’ll be really pissed if you overreact.”

  I grit my teeth. “Fine, ten minutes. I’m starting a timer.”

  Griff shakes his head, trying to look amused, but I see the flash of concern in his eyes too, and I know I’m not overreacting. Fine, I’m overreacting a little, but there’s definitely reason to be worried.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jordan

  It doesn’t hit me until I’m standing in my hotel room in a towel. I feel lonely. After taking a shower and using the hotel’s delicious-smelling complimentary lotion, I thought I’d enjoy relaxing alone before falling asleep. But despite the nice hotel room, some solid runs at the prelims earlier, and a refreshing shower, my mood is melancholy.

  My body turns slowly in a circle and I sigh. A long, pitiful sigh. I miss Beck. He’s been at all my competitions, and not only is he not here with me, he’s not really accessible either. Sitting on the edge of my bed still in the towel, I think about how strange it is that my boyfriend is at a live taping of the Eileen Delarosa Show.

  I’m sure even if it’s over now, he’s out with Griff and their sisters, but I figure I could at least text him, let him know how much I miss him.

  My phone isn’t in any of the pockets of the clothes I was wearing earlier, or in the small purse I’d brought with me to the bar. I let out another long sigh as I realize I must have left my phone at the bar. I enjoyed hanging with the other women at the competition, but I’m not real excited about trucking it back there. My pajamas are looking mighty appealing.

  The sound of a phone ringing nearly has me jumping out of my skin as I stand over my suitcase, contemplating if it’s worth the trip back to the bar to rescue my phone. It takes a few seconds before I realize it’s the room phone.

  “Hello?” I answer with a frown.

  “Jordan.” It’s Beck, and I can’t quite detect what I’m hearing in his voice. Well, I can, but it’s weird.

  “Why do you sound like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’ve been holding your breath for hours? Are you okay? Did something happen on the show?”

  “I’m good, nothing happened, but I did get a call from Camila Gonzales from your phone. And I’ve been worrying something happened to you.”

  I sit back down on the bed. “Oh.” Man, the way he said my name, he sounded so distressed. Or like he had been distressed, and now he could breathe again. “Why were you so worried? I just left it at the bar.”

  “I’m not exactly sure. I probably overreacted. But with the online bullying you’ve had in the past, and with it being Camila of all people who had your phone, I started to think something might have happened to you. Besides, you didn’t answer the first time I called your room.”

  “Oh, I was in the shower. I just got out.”

  There’s music and voices in the background on his end and I’m about to ask where he is, but he asks me a very distracting question. “So, are you still in a towel?” It’s not so much the question, but the way his voice drops an octave.

  “Yeah, I am actually. I had just realized I didn’t have my phone and was trying to decide whether to get in my pajamas and find it tomorrow or get dressed to go back to the bar to retrieve it.”

  “Stay here for now and talk to me. Maybe someone can bring it by your room later. Camila said most of them are staying at the same hotel, that’s how I found you.”