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Tara’s brown ponytail swung in every direction as she bounced around on both feet, dodging her father’s carefully executed jabs.

And, apparently, his sweat.

Reed regarded his daughter, slightly winded. “If I happened to be a creep lurking in a dark alleyway, I’d be doing far worse than sweating on you. Your defensive maneuvers need work.”

“I’m good at being defensive.”

“Physically. If someone grabs you, it’s all about leverage. Twist your body like this to break free.”

I watched as Reed instructed Tara through the maneuver, my nose wrinkling with curiosity. My left arm pulsed, encased in a navy sling, the cast having been removed the week prior. I couldn’t wait to put this injury behind me for good.

If someone were to grab me in a dark alleyway, I’d be as proactive as a sack of rice.

Reaching into my open backpack, I pulled out a disposable camera that was almost out of film. The little wheel made a grinding noise as I flicked it to the right with my thumb before aiming the camera at Reed and Tara.

Click.

Tara huffed and puffed, bending down and clasping her hands around her knees. “You smell like a locker room.”

“I smell like someone who could ruin your life if you don’t take this more seriously.”

“This is boring. I’m hungry.”

Reed’s hands were loosely planted on his hips as he sighed through a defeated headshake. “Fine. We can reconvene next week.”

Tara whirled around, lifting her fingers to make air quotes as she approached me on the bench. “Reconvene,” she parroted. “Such a Dad word.”

I quickly stuffed the camera in my backpack as Ladybug perked up, tail in full swing when Tara leaned over to scratch her ears.

“Do you guys practice a lot?” I wondered, gathering my text books.

Tara gulped down a bottle of water and shrugged. “Sometimes. I’d rather burn my calories playing volleyball. Dad gets over-the-top serious when it comes to this stuff.”

“He probably saw a lot of awful things when he was a paramedic.”

“Yeah, but he’s overprotective. If I move the wrong way, he gets all quiet and his face does this.” She rearranged her face into scrunchy scowl that made me giggle. “Just add in a few more age lines.”

I glanced at Reed as he stalked toward us, his bronzed skin glistening under the early-spring sun. His hair was dark and damp as he threaded his fingers through it, his flexing biceps on full display. The sleeveless top he wore had a midnight-navy hue in direct sunlight, and the fabric stuck to him like a second skin.

Our gazes tangled briefly before I pulled away and peered over at Tara. “Dinner?”

“Yes, please. I was thinking we could go to Dad’s apartment and order pizza. Mom’s working late.”

“We? As in, I would go with you?”

“Yeah, why not? Do you hate pizza?” She gasped with mock horror. “Oh, my God. You hate pizza. This friendship is officially over.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “I love pizza. I just don’t want to intrude on your time together.”

Reed took a seat beside me, his own water bottle dangling between his spread thighs.

He didn’t smell like a locker room.

He smelled like what I imagined salt clinging to seaside air would smell like, fused with whatever bodywash he used. Something clean and crisp, hinting with the warmth of amber.

My skin buzzed at his proximity.

“My apartment is a mess,” Reed noted, after chugging down his water. “Another time.”

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