Page 26 of Valor on the Move
“Grasshopper?” Rafa’s nose wrinkled. “Is that from something?”
“An old kung-fu show. I had to Google it when one of my instructors called us that during training.” He swung his arm back and took a few steps.
Shane hadn’t been bowling in years, and he knew as soon as the ball left his hand it was no good. As it careened off the wooden lane and headed for the gutter, Shane gritted his teeth.
“Um, what am I supposed to be learning, exactly?”
Ignoring him, Shane picked up another ball. He lined up the sights and pulled his arm back. This one rolled into the other gutter.
“If you want, I can put down the bumpers?”
He shot Rafa a glare that only made the kid smile wider.
“Good effort. Keep it up.” Rafa picked up his next ball. “That’s what my little league coach used to say when I whiffed my at-bats.”
Shane laughed. “All right, let’s see what you can do. Prove that wasn’t a fluke.”
Rafa did just that, scoring a spare with his two balls in the second frame. Shane lined up his next shot. This time it hit one pitiful pin on the left side.
“You’re twisting your arm too much,” Rafa noted.
“All right, Grasshopper. How do I fix it?”
“Okay, pick up the ball.”
Shane did, and suddenly Rafa was standing behind him. Very close. He put one palm on Shane’s back and ran his other down Shane’s right arm. When he spoke, his breath tickled the back of Shane’s neck and ear.
“So when your arm goes back, keep it straight, like this.” He guided Shane’s arm into position. “You see?”
“Mmm.” Shane’s heart was beating too fast.
“Then when you throw it—” Rafa moved even closer, his hip meeting Shane’s ass. “Take the last step and keep your arm straight as you go.”
Shane’s mouth was alarmingly dry, and he jerked forward, his fingers gripping the holes in the ball. “Got it. Thanks.” He tried to focus on the pins and the arrows on the lane, but his mind was full of white noise as his body thrummed. What the fuck was wrong with him? Clearly he needed to get laid if he was getting turned on by physical contact that was purely innocent.
His next shot took out three pins, so that was a vast improvement.
Rafa clapped. “There you go! See, I’ll give you bowling tips, and you can tell me about surfing.”
Shane managed one more pin in his frame, and shook his head as Rafa knocked down almost all of them with his next ball. “I think at this point your advice is a lot more useful than mine. Haven’t been on my board in forever.” With a pang, he thought of his trusty Infinity, long gone now. His parents had kept it for him in the garage. He could still hear his mother’s teasing now.
“We’re keeping this board hostage so you’ll visit. Come back soon!”
But he hadn’t. He’d gotten caught up in work. Caught up in everything except what really mattered.
“Why not?”
“Huh?” Shane blinked back to attention.
Rafa took his next shot, taking out the final two pins for another spare. “Why haven’t you surfed more over the years?”
“After training, my first assignment was the field office in Omaha. No waves in Nebraska. Then it was Greensboro, and then Albany. Montana. Me and surfing just weren’t meant to be, I guess.”
Rafa leaned against the wall as he watched Shane take a ball. “Don’t you ever go back to California to visit? Do your parents still live there?”
“No.” He rolled the ball, sending it into the gutter near the end of the lane. It was stupid that the pain still tugged at him, clammy and insistent even now.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
Shane forced himself to meet Rafa’s gaze. “No. It’s… My parents were killed. Six years ago now. A house fire caused by faulty wiring.”
“God. Shane, I’m so sorry.” Rafa took a step, reaching out with his hand and then letting it drop to his side. “That must have been terrible.”
He kept his voice even as he lined up a shot. “House was completely gutted. It all burned. My dad had kept a family picture on his desk at the school where he taught. It’s the only thing I have left of them.” Why am I telling him this? He threw the ball and managed to keep it on the lane. “Anyway, like I said, hasn’t been any opportunity for surfing since I finished college.” Stepping back, he waited for Rafa to take a ball, but Rafa only watched him with sad eyes. Shane cleared his throat. “It’s your turn.”
“Oh! Um, yeah.” Rafa bowled, his ball spinning into the gutter.
Shane forced a triumphant smile and a light tone. “Ah, the master shows weakness. Things might be turning around here for the old man.”
Rafa put on his own shaky grin. “You wish. I was just faking you out.” He took his next ball, and sure enough it was a strike. “Bam.”
