The ocean was calmer than it had any right to be.
Most mornings, the waves off the beach demanded something of the people brave enough to paddle into them. They punished hesitation. They rewarded patience. Quinn had always loved that about surfing. The ocean didn't care who you were. It only cared whether you respected it.
Today, it almost seemed merciful.
Paisley sat straddling her board a few yards away, her wet braid plastered against the back of her wetsuit. She'd finally stopped looking terrified every time a swell lifted her. Instead, she studied the water the way Quinn had taught her, watching the horizon instead of the nose of her board.
"What do you see?" he called.
She squinted toward the incoming set. "The third one's bigger."
Quinn grinned. "There you go."
The wave rolle
