Page 66 of Knot Your Sunshine
I reach for one of the sweating glasses of iced coffee, needing something to do with my hands before I jump him again.
"This coffee..." I take a sip, my brow furrowing slightly. "These are Josh's beans."
"You can tell from one sip?" His eyebrows raise. "That's an impressive tongue you've got."
"His coffee date was... comprehensive." I laugh, remembering Josh's enthusiasm as he made me try different brewing methods. "Very educational."
"Just educational?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "You mean you didn't use your tongue for anything else during the date?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Keanu!" I bury my burning face in my hands while he laughs.
"I'm kidding." He pulls my hands away, kissing each palm. "Mostly."
We settle against the cushions, me tucked into his side. He feeds me pieces of fruit between kisses, papaya, mango, bites of the flaky pastries that melt on my tongue.
"This is perfect," I say, then catch his pleased expression. "The breakfast. The breakfast is perfect."
"Just the breakfast?" His voice drops to that low register that makes my toes curl. "Those sweet little sounds you made earlier suggest otherwise."
I feed him a piece of papaya to shut him up, but he nips my fingers playfully, sending sparks through me.
"So tell me," I say, needing to calm my racing pulse, "when did you start surfing? You make it look so effortless out there."
Keanu's eyes drift to the ocean visible through a gap in the curtains. His expression shifts, growing faraway.
"First time I got on a board, I was twelve. Borrowed from a kid at school." His thumb traces absent circles on my shoulder. "Couldn't afford one myself, you know?"
I look up at him, watching memories play across his face.
"But the second I started paddling, none of that mattered. The ocean doesn't care if you're rich or poor. It just is. Demands respect, gives freedom in return," he says, looking lost in thought.
I watch the waves roll endlessly beyond the gazebo. "It looks beautiful. Powerful."
"Yeah." He plucks a piece of mango, chews thoughtfully. "Both those things."
"But also terrifying," I admit. "All that water. All that unknown underneath."
He nods slowly. "The cost of freedom is always risk. The ocean reminds me of that every time a rip current appears."
I trace the lines of his palm with my fingertip. "My work feels like that sometimes. Like I'm caught in a rip current."
He squeezes my fingers, waiting.
"The more I try to control every outcome, the more resistance I hit," I continue. "Maybe I need to learn to trust the process, even though..." I swallow hard. "Even though I know how little control we really have over things. Take the franchise test for instance, I'm confident I'll win, but in the end there are no guarantees."
"Hey." His thumb strokes over my knuckles. "I know you'll succeed, one way or another… Just like you succeeded in standing up on that board today."
"After ten tries." I bump his shoulder with mine. "And only for three seconds."
"But you did it." He bumps back. "You fell, laughed, got back up. Then you flew."
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words, at the faith in his eyes.
"Besides," he adds, grin returning, "you're not paddling alone anymore. You've got three alphas who'd swim against any rip current for you."
"Careful." I poke his ribs. "I might hold you to that."
"Please do." He catches my poking finger and pulls it to his lips.
