Page 53 of Him Lessons

“I’m going to touch you. That okay?”

Holy shit, yes.

The recently sexually awakened part of Andy’s brain didn’t give a damn that husky voice hadn’t come from Kyle.

The autistic part of Andy’s brain had a few follow-up questions for her surf instructor. Questions like: Where? When? Why? With how many fingers? With how many units of pressure?

Perhaps sensing her internal conflict, Luke hastened to explain. “I just wanna tweak your positioning and guide you through the paddle. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” she finally managed. “I’m good.”

A hand came to rest on the small of her back. Even through her swimsuit, Andy could feel the warmth of it. The warmth and the perfect firmness.

“This stays down.” Luke pushed on her back with that big strong palm while his other shifted to grasp a shoulder. “This comes up.” He tugged her body into position so her head and shoulders were up and her back arched. Then he moved behind her. “Legs stay together and centered on the board.”

Holding onto the rails, Andy squeezed her thighs together, highly aware they weren’t the tannest. But at least they were strong. After many a lap in the pool and many a mile on her bike, her leg and butt muscles were in great shape.

“Nice,” Luke murmured.

Even though Andy was positive the man was referring to her body positioning and not her toned body, she couldn’t help the flush rising in her cheeks. Which only deepened when Luke materialized in front of her.

“Why is this pool so damn hot?” He rose from his crouched position in the water and tugged his rash guard up, treating Andy to a closeup of his eight-pack — because of course a dude who was like eight feet tall would be rocking an eight-pack.

“It’s only eight— I mean eighty degrees,” Andy said, biting her lip as the rash guard was yanked over Luke’s head.

“It’s like a friggin’ bathtub in here.” Free of the top, he sent it sailing in the direction of the goggles. “Now, where were we?”

“The paddle.”

“Right.” Luke tapped her left hand. “So for that part, you basically wanna do a freestyle stroke, keeping your fingers slightly spread as they go into the water and your strokes close to the board, so you get good depth. If your arms flail out wide, you’re just gonna tire yourself out and look—”

“Like a kook. Yeah, I got it.” Extending her left arm, Andy cut into the water and pulled until her hand was about to her hip before bringing it up and switching to her right. The board glided away smoothly.

“That’s it,” Luke called after her. “Keep it up!”

Andy paddled off to the deep end of the pool — Luke swimming alongside her — and once there, he taught her how to turn the board. They headed back the opposite direction, then repeated the drill for another hundred meters. With each successive lap, Andy’s confidence grew. She was pretty good at this paddling business.

Back in the shallow end, Luke tipped his chin her way. “Did I hear someone squawking at me earlier about overestimating their athletic abilities?”

“I do not squawk,” Andy retorted while biting back a grin.

Luke held a hand to his ear. “What was that? I don’t speak bird.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Well, that’s a step up from absurd.” Grabbing the board, he spun it around and shoved. “Now paddle, Bird! Paddle!”

Andy giggled. She couldn’t help it. Luke, it seemed, was equally adept at making her laugh.

A dozen laps later, however, she wasn’t finding him quite so funny. There was a growing ache in her back from keeping her shoulder muscles engaged, and her surf instructor was seriously getting her mad up with his colorful sideline coaching.

“Why is your ass over the tail? Scoot up on the board!”

“Keep the nose down!”

“This ain’t doggy-paddling. Extend those arms! You look like a baby T-Rex out there!”

Andy slowed at that one, her brain conjuring up a new scene for one of theJurassic Parkmovies. A bloody one involving the stubby-armed dino-star of the film and her sadistic surf instructor.

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