Page 81 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Pushing off from the ramp, I positioned us a few feet away, ensuring that if and when we fell again, neither of us would end up getting a dock lobotomy.

Like most people, Levi fell the first time he tried standing.

And since we were both on the paddleboard, that meant I fell, too.

I talked him through it, giving him the spiel I wished someone had given me: don’t lock your knees, stand on either side of the line to center your weight, and when it’s time to stand up, don’t look down, look out on the horizon instead.

He was wobbly at first, but he had a good awareness of his body and center of gravity, and, once he had a feel for the board, a solid balance followed soon after that. It was always more difficult with two people on here, so I was impressed with how quickly he picked it up.

The water rippled around us, and when I glanced to the right, I noticed a furry, golden head making its way towards the board.

The golden retriever swam up to me, no doubt excited to have playmates in the water. He held the orange ball in his mouth like a prize as he collected a few well-deserved scratches behind his ear. He plopped the soaking-wet ball between us, andLevi tossed it out into the water, for the little land-seal to go fetch.

We watched him collect it, then head back to his moms on the dock, pride brimming when he climbed up and shook off all over them.

Feeling lighter than I had in a while, I handed Levi the paddle and gestured for him to kneel. It would be easier to move us both that way, than if we were both standing. Then, I waved my hand out towards the expanse of water. “Alright, let’s go see the city.”

Paddling two people wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, but Levi made it look like it was. He moved us through the water evenly, with an impressive speed that didn’t seem to cost him any effort.

“You’re different out here, you know.” He averted his gaze when I looked up at him, almost shy. “Happier. Freer.”

“Less prickly, you mean?” I arched my brow.

He laughed. “Yeah, less prickly. Though don’t get me wrong, I like the prickly you, too.”

My chest tightened at that admission and, clearing my throat, I gestured absently around us—the blue sky, the warm sun, the picturesque water and houseboats lining the coast. “Kind of hard not to be happy out here.”

“You come here a lot then?”

I nodded. “As often as I can. I’ve always loved being on the water.”

Sometimes, after a particularly bad day, I’d find my way to the dock we’d left from and just go for a swim, alone, letting myself become one with the water and night sky. Not exactly the safest safety blanket in the world, sure, but my little cove never failed to make me feel better—less alone, even when I was. Out here, the weight of the world just felt lighter—no matter how heavy it was on land.

The water was also where I felt closest to Amto Amani. When I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that I was back on our little shoreline, just out of reach of where her voice would carry. That if I opened my eyes, I might see her standing there on the dock.

Though, of course, I never could.

I studied him as he maneuvered us away from the small bay and out into the canal. We weren’t too far from where Sora and I had taken him before. “You sure you’ve never been on a paddleboard, or were you just fucking with me?”

His lips tipped into a small grin, that dimple of his making an appearance again. “I pick things up pretty quickly.”

It took a non-small amount of effort not to stare at his chest and abs as he moved us effortlessly through the water. The constant shifting from one side of the board to the other did major things for the expanse of muscle on display.

“This canal splits the northern half of the city from the southern, which makes it a unique way to understand and calibrate where a lot of the neighborhoods are. So,” I said, jutting my chin to the west, “if we went that way, we’d eventually hit the Locks in Ballard and, from there, the Sound.” I pointed to the buildings on the opposite side of the water. “Over there, you have Magnolia and Queen Anne.” I pointed east. “We’re going this way. We’ll hit Wallingford and Lake Union, and if we keep going beyond that, the lake will eventually spill into U District and Lake Washington.”

He nodded, maneuvering us in the direction I suggested.

After a few minutes of silence, he glanced down at me. “Your hand looks better. How’s it feeling?”

I opened it, flexing. “Better. Figure I should be in perfect punching form in a week or so.”

He grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Surprisingly, he hadn’t texted much in the weeks since getting my number. Just enough to confirm a time and place—and for me to send my directions. And he usually took hours, sometimes days, to respond to the few back and forths we had managed.

It made sense. Levi wasn’t the sort of person who was stuck to their phone—a trait I admired. In fact, the only time I recalled it making an appearance was when he shoved it under my nose to punch my number in.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly bad that I wasn’t contributing much to the actual labor of the paddle. Least I could do was come up with some conversation. “What part of town are you staying in while you’re here.”

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