Page 83 of The Forgotten Queen
There was a small part of Sydria that hummed with excitement. She was trying something new, unexpected—something that no one hadtoldher she had to do. She was doing it because she wanted to.
Once she made it out to where the waves were breaking, she turned her board around, looking over her shoulder.
You can do this, she breathed.
She’d sat on the beach, watching the mistakes of everyone else.
It’s all about timing.
In the distance, a wave gathered, picking up momentum.
This is the one.
She lay down, paddling forward as hard as she could. She didn’t know if she would be strong enough, but she kept moving. After a few strokes, she turned her head and the sound of the water pushing toward her got louder. The rushing water tickled her toes and legs as it got closer.
Wait for it.
She felt a burst of speed and momentum, and her intuition told her to stand. She placed her hands on the board and popped up as quickly as she could. She stood there for a second, waiting for the wave to throw her off, but it didn’t.
“I’m doing it!” she yelled to no one other than herself. The board wobbled, and immediately her knees bent, and her arms went out to the side to offset the shaking. The board swerved back and forth, and it was clear how inexperienced and naive she was.
“I don’t know how to steer!” she yelled to the surrounding water. She was going to fall, and all she could think about was how humiliating it was going to be.
Then suddenly, Marx was behind her. He stepped on the back of her board, abandoning his own surfboard. Everything tilted and shifted with his weight, and for a moment, Sydria thought they would both tumble over, but he somehow gained the perfect amount of balance.
His chest was pressed against her back, and she looked over her shoulder, meeting his sharp jaw and hazel eyes. “What are you doing?”
Marx’s focus was on the water, but he glanced down at her for a split second. “Steering.”
She stood motionless, trying not to do anything that would disturb the stability. “Where did you come from?”
“I couldn’t let you surf alone.” He dropped his head, putting his lips next to her cheek. “I told you I would teach you how, didn’t I?” Then his eyes jumped back to the wave.
His closeness.
His manliness.
His complete control of the situation set her heart off-kilter.
Goosebumps popped up along her arms and legs. Not because she was cold, but because Marx’s skin was on her skin.
They rode the wave together until it started to die down. His arms wrapped around her waist, and before Sydria knew what was happening, they were both falling back into the watertogether. She came up for air, pushing the water out of her eyes and hair. Her feet kicked out, trying to find the ground below her, but she couldn’t touch it. She wrapped her arms around Marx’s neck while he held onto the surfboard with one hand. His other arm found its way around her waist.
Water dripped down his face, running into his cute smile. “You’re a pro,” he said as they bobbed up and down.
“I doubt that.”
“I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my entire life.” Marx’s grip around her waist tightened, and she felt the slight tug of him pulling her closer so that her hips touched his. “My little surfer girl.”
Something significant passed through his eyes. Sydria wished she knew what it was. She wanted to keep his gaze, to have him look at her like that every day. His stare made her feel strong, like she was so much more than what she believed on her own.
“Nice ride!” Dannyn cheered from the beach.
They both turned to see the entire group watching them, including a very upset Cheney. Her arms were folded, and she looked to be pouting.
Cheney’s tantrum was more satisfying than it should have been.
“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dannyn yelled, “but it’s lunchtime, so you’ll have to have your romantic moment in the water later.”
