Page 41 of Resorting to Romance

I ruffle his hair and he ducks away like he’s too cool to be messed with.

Mila catches up with Noah.

“Hey,” she says, smiling up at me.

“Hey,” I smile down at Mila. “Good to see you.”

She’s wearing a light coverup over her dress and her beach bag is slung over one shoulder. I turn my attention to Noah to keep myself from staring at her.

It’s warmer today than it’s been in a while. The sun is out and the waves are just right for learning. I couldn’t have asked for better weather if I had ordered it.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mila says. Her eyes soften and her smile feels like a gift I could never earn.

“My pleasure. It’s a privilege, really.” I look at Noah. “My dad took me out surfing when I was one.

“Years old?” Noah’s eyes go wide.

“Yeah. I don’t even think I was actually one yet when he had me on the board with him. And I rode my own board by the time I was two and a half with my dad overseeing me.”

“Whoa.”

“It’s a little different in Hawaii,” I explain.

“Do you just come out bigger?”

I chuckle. “No. We come out the same size. Most of us do, anyway. But we’re a surf culture—at least the part of the islands where I grew up—so we get our children in the water young.”

“No wonder you’re a superhero.”

I send Mila a help-me-out-here look. Noah definitely looks up to me, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think I’m a superhero.

“A professional?” Mila asks Noah.

“Yeah. That. You got to surf for your job. Like a superhero.”

I chuckle again. “Yeah. Sort of like Aquaman, huh?”

Noah cracks up.

“Okay, boss man, let’s get you surfing.”

Mila drops the beach bag from her shoulder and spreads out her blanket. I spend the next hour teaching Noah thefundamental principles of surfing, starting with a lesson on the sand with basic safety measures followed by how to paddle and pop up. He’s boogie boarded over the years, so some of this is repeat information—and he’s quick to tell me everything he already knows.

We paddle out into the white water, practicing standing where the water’s shallow. Once he’s had enough practice in the slush, I remind him about what he’s going to do in the glassy waves further out.

“What do you do if you fall?” I quiz him as we float side by side, our legs dangling off the edges of our boards while we sit upright.

“Don’t put the board between me and the wave so it doesn’t smack my face. Fall to the side of the board. And wave my hand overhead before coming out of the water so I don’t bonk the board on the way up. And don’t swallow the ocean. Hold my breath when my head is under.”

“Perfect. I think you’re ready.”

“Oh, yeah! I was born ready!” Noah shouts over to me.

“Where do you get these sayings of yours?” I smile over at him.

“School, of course.”

“Of course.”

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