Page 130 of Surfer's Paradise

Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of San Onofre

The boat cut clean through the waves, the hull slicing across the deep blue as the Pacific stretched endless and unbroken in every direction.

The sun was already high, burning bright in the sky, but the wind off the water was sharp and cool, biting at Isaac’s skin as he stood near the bow, the salty spray misting against his face.

The engine growled beneath him, a steady, vibrating hum that ran up through the deck, rattling through his bones.

He needed this.

This was his space.

Wide open water. The deep. The quiet. The clean, mind-clearing burn of adrenaline and physical exhaustion that came with it.

No distractions. No overthinking.

No fucking Rosie.

She was gone, and that was for the best.

She was back in LA, chasing the life she was meant to have.

And he was here, doing what he was built for.

“Fuck me, it’s perfect out here,” Shay muttered beside him, rolling his shoulders back, staring out at the horizon.

Isaac exhaled slowly, gripping the railing. “Not a bad way to spend a Saturday.”

It was a good crew.

Zach was behind them, checking over his dive gear, the same way he did before every drop—methodical, precise, borderline obsessive.

Jesse and Dom were off near the stern, mid-argument over something dumb, voices half-laughing, half-shouting over the wind.

Vero was standing with the La Jolla Dive Club instructor, already half-zipped into her wetsuit, her sleek dark braid flicking over her shoulder as she ran through the plan.

Isaac ran a hand through his salt-stiffened hair, feeling the familiar buzz of anticipation in his chest.

This was his shit.

Diving. Moving through the world beneath the world.

Sinking into the quiet, the pressure, the weightless nothingness of it all.

It was the closest thing to peace he knew.

“Yo, Rayleigh,” Zach called, grinning from across the deck. “You in, or you just here to stand around looking pretty?”

Isaac smirked. “Can’t I do both?”

Shay snorted, yanking on his vest. “Man, the day you don’t make everything about yourself is the day I retire.”

Isaac glanced over. “That a promise?”

“Fuck off.”

Zach rolled his eyes, tossing his mask onto the bench.

“Conditions look good,” he said, focused now, all business. “Current’s a little stronger than usual, but visibility’s solid.”

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