Page 82 of Tell Me It’s Right

After setting my things on the table, I test one foot on the board. My hands reach out on instinct as I add the second foot, but Liam’s already there, his hands on my forearms to keep me steady.

“There you go,” he murmurs as the board sways beneath me until I find my footing.

“I can’t believe you find this fun,” I mumble.

Ignoring that, he says, “Try leaning most of your weight on your right foot, and you’re going to kick off the ground with your left.”

“Liam…”

His hands tighten on my arms, but he steps back to give me some room. And for some unknown reason, I do what he says.

My stomach dips as my balance falters, but Liam holds firm and walks alongside me as I move.

“I hate this. I hate this a lot.”

“No you don’t.”

I step off the board entirely, then stop it with one foot before it can go rolling off.

“Try kicking it up.”

That, maybe, I can manage. I’ve seen him do it enough times. I hit the end not quite hard enough, so I have to lurch forward and grab it. When I meet Liam’s eyes again, he’s got that same damn look on his face.

“Why are you smirking at me?”

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You have no idea, do you?”

I clutch the board a little tighter. “I have no idea what?”

He takes the helmet’s chin strap in his hands but pauses before undoing the clasp. I am hyperaware of how close he is to me but try not to let it show on my face. One corner of his mouth remains raised, but the amusement in his eyes softens. The strap clicks as he releases it. “How goddamn cute you look in this.”

My brain barely has a chance to process the words before someone bounds up behind Liam and slaps him on the back. “Good to see you, man!”

“Hey, Fletch,” sighs Liam as he runs a hand along the back of his neck.

He turns to me with a hand extended. “Fletcher. We went to?—”

“School together. I remember.”

He smiles, all warm and goofy and full of dimples. “He’s got terrible patience, but he’s a pretty good teacher. I’d listen to him.Though I am a bit disappointed I’ll no longer be his one and only protégé.”

“Don’t think you need to worry about that. One lesson was enough for me.”

“Oh no, it looked like you two were just getting started.”

Liam raises his eyebrows at me.

“Hold on. I’ve got something that might help.” Before I can respond, Fletcher takes off toward the parking lot at a jog.

“You roped your friend into this too?” I demand.

Liam raises his palms. “I had nothing to do with this.”

Fletcher returns with a handful of elbow and knee pads, and squints at me as he approaches, like he’s calculating something.

“These are technically children’s sizes,” he murmurs, holding one up to my elbow. “But I think they should fit.”

“He teaches kid camps,” Liam explains.

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