Page 63 of Knot Your Sunshine
"Eyes on the horizon." His hand comes up, finger pointing where to look, his other hand still on my hip. "Weight centered. There you go."
Ten attempts later, I'm marginally less terrible, and still hyperaware of every time he touches me to adjust my form. My skin hums under his fingers through the fabric of my swimsuit.
"Is the water cold?" I eye the ocean.
"Perfect temperature. Always is here, especially this time of morning." He picks up his board. "Trust me."
"I'll hold you to that if you're wrong." I grab my board, trying for playful confidence.
When I wade in, he's right. The water wraps around my ankles, warm as bathwater. By the time I'm waist-deep, I'm grinning.
"Told you," Keanu says, floating his board beside mine. He swims closer, and I can't help but notice the way the water streams off his broad shoulders. "Now, think you're ready to try it for real? Climb on and paddle like I showed you?"
I nod, then belly-flop onto the board with all the grace of a seal on land. He laughs, swimming even closer.
"Need help balancing?" His eyes dance with something that isn't quite innocent.
"I've got it," I say, but my voice wavers when his hand grab me by the hips, steadying me on the board.
"There. Feeling stable?"
"V—Very." Though stable isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe what I'm feeling right now with his hands going up, gently caressing the area leading to the side of my boobs.
"Good," he says softly. "Now try paddling."
He keeps one hand on the board as I practice, occasionally reaching up to adjust my arm position. Each touch sends heat through me that has nothing to do with the rising sun and my breath catches when his fingers trail along my forearm, correcting my angle.
"Feel that swell coming? When I say paddle, you paddle hard. Then pop up just like we practiced."
The wave approaches. My heart hammers.
"Paddle... now!"
I paddle frantically until I feel the board lift.
"Now pop!"
I try. My foot slips. The board shoots sideways and I tumble face-first into the water, coming up with seaweed draped over my head.
"Congratulations," Keanu laughs, swimming over to pull the green strand from my hair, his fingers lingering against my cheek for a heartbeat too long. "You've been officially baptized by the Pacific."
"Lucky me." But I'm laughing too, salt on my lips, sun on my face.
"Again?" He's close enough that I can see water droplets on his eyelashes.
"Again." I splash him playfully before climbing back on the board.
We settle into a rhythm. Paddle, fall, laugh. Paddle, wobble, splash. Each time he corrects something, his touch lingers a little longer and I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
"Chin up. Eyes on the horizon." He moves behind me in the water, chest against my back, arm extending past mine to point. "Right there. See?"
"I see." Though what I'm really seeing are little stars forming behind my eyelids from the way his breath fans across my neck.
"This next one is yours. Trust the lift," he says, his voice dropping low, lips nearly brushing my ear. I lean back slightly, just enough to feel more of him against me.
"Now, climb on and paddle hard," he says as the swell approaches, voice rougher. "You've got this."
The wave catches the board. The lift comes. I pop up and suddenly, impossibly, I'm standing. Actually standing. The shore slides past. Wind rushes against my face.
