Page 104 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Sure it does,” Chad said, coming to kneel beside the board. “You’re overthinking it. You’re trying to mentally break it down into steps, but it needs to be one fluid motion.”
“I like steps,” Daisy insisted. “Steps are organized. Steps make sense.”
Chad’s expression softened. “Not everything can be organized into neat little boxes, Fields. Sometimes you have to let go and trust yourself.”
Something about his words felt weighted with deeper meaning, but before Daisy could examine it, he continued.
“Here, let me help. Get in position again.”
Daisy lay back down on the board.
“Now, on three, I’m going to help guide you through it. One motion, no thinking. Ready?”
She nodded, determined.
“One... two... three!”
With Chad’s hands guiding her shoulders and hips, Daisy pushed up and somehow found herself standing on the board, knees bent, arms out, almost perfectly balanced.
“I did it!” she exclaimed, wobbling slightly.
“You did,” Chad said, his smile wide and genuine. “See what happens when you stop overthinking?”
Daisy stepped off the board, brushing sand from her hands. “Don’t get too excited. Doing it on the beach is one thing. Doing it in the water with waves trying to kill me is another.”
“The waves aren’t trying to kill you,” Chad laughed. “They’re just doing their wave thing. It’s up to you whether you fight them or work with them.”
“Is this where you tell me surfing is a metaphor for life?” Daisy asked dryly.
“Nope,” Chad replied, picking up the board and tucking it under his arm. “This is where I tell you to grab your board and follow me into the water before you talk yourself out of it.”
Fifteen minutes later, Daisy found herself lying on her board in the shallow waters, practicing paddling while small waves rolled beneath her. Chad stayed close, one hand on her board to steady it.
“You’re doing great,” he encouraged. “Just remember to keep your feet together and pointed.”
Daisy nodded, but her focus had drifted to the writing contest, and Ava and Ethan’s dismissals of her writing dreams. And underneath it all, the persistent ache of knowing what day it was. It had been three years since she’d heard her father’s laugh, felt his bear hug, listened to his stories about his military adventures.
Or felt his strong hands catch her when she fell.
“Hey,” Chad said softly, noticing her distraction. “Where’d you go?”
Daisy sighed, sitting up on her board. “I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about this writing contest.”
Chad sat on his own board, legs dangling in the water. “You nervous about it?”
“Yeah. With the deadline coming up, it’s feeling very real. And Ava’s been no help, with the way she’s always dismissing it as a hobby.”
“Prove her wrong,” Chad said.
She adjusted herself on the surfboard to face him.
“You’ve got the talent, Fields,” he said. “Let’s show her and boring banker just how good you are.”
For a moment, she just studied the sparkle in his eyes.
“Thanks, Chad,” she said fondly. “For believing in me.”
“You believed in me, too.”
