Page 30 of All at Once

“So you want me to be your chaperone,” he concludes with no expression.

“We both know without guidance I’ll most likely get lost at sea.”

“Fine,” he grumbles to himself.

A relieved smile lights up my face as I motion toward the surfboard on my right. “Is this one mine?”

“No, it’s the pelican’s,” he deadpans, gesturing to the bird walking on the sand nearby.

I walked right into that one.

Luca starts walking with his board toward the sea, while I continue to look at the water. Waiting for the courage to somehow tap me on the shoulder, I notice how many kids are either swimming or doing other water activities. I remind myself: if they can do it, so can I. There’s nothing to worry about.I hope.

I take a deep breath as I begin my steps, my body moving toward the ocean, my mind desperately trying to push me backwards.

After paddling far enough from the shore to practice, Luca straddles his surfboard, and I follow suit, though with already shakier legs than him.

“Okay,” he says, “let’s start with balancing on the board.” As he gets up onto his board, his muscles have my undivided attention again, when I should be learning what steps he’s doing to repeat them.

Giving all my strength to keep my balance, I cautiously lift myself up and begin to stand on the board. “Woah,” I wince and almost wobble backwards before catching myself. My lack of coordination is clearly making up for the almost nonexistent waves today.

Luca looks at my legs and suggests, “Try bending your knees. It’ll help you keep a low center of gravity to stop you from falling.” I try, but fail to match his standing position, when he adds, “Stop moving your shoulders so much.”

“I can’t help it. It’s hard to balance on this thing,” I say, still jittery from the fact that we’re this deep into the water.

“Surfboard,” he corrects, “it’s called asurfboard.”

“Whatever.” I don’t fucking carewhatit’s called at this very moment.

I try to tilt my shoulders at an angle that will hopefully minimize my clumsiness. Instead, my upper body somehow feels even stranger than before.

“No. Not like that,” Luca says, elongating his arms to mimic my movements. Only my arms most likely look evenmorepeculiar than a second ago. “Jasmine, what are you doing? Look at how my shoulders look.”

This feels like a trap. Considering if I look at his shoulders right now, I’d be focusing on how even the tiniest muscles are flexing along his collarbone.

As I try to mirror his position, I remember the last and only other time so far Luca’s said my name. His voice a bit foggy and muzzled that night by the pool. Too far away to detect. But now, his voice isclear. The letters of my name rolling off his tongue for just a second time. And it’s never sounded likethatbefore.

His mocking tone snaps me back to reality. “That’swhat I look like?”

“Well help me then!” I squeal, losing my patience.

He places his hands on my shoulders, while I remain impressed by his leg strength and how he’s practically maintaining his own balance on his board while slightly leaning in to help me.

It works so far, but I also squirm at his touch. It’s not just the fact that a man has never touched my shoulders like this before. But I also temporarily forgot how ticklish I am.

It’s like everything about me has pointed to the common sign of never getting laid. I justhadto be ticklish to topit all off.

Immediately smiling from the sensation that’s traveling down my arms leaves him even more puzzled. “Why are you smiling?” Luca asks, his brows creased, a trace of a flush forming on his cheeks.

“Nothing,” I say, despite my thudding heartbeat. “Continue.”

“Continuewhat? You’re not listening to any of my instructions.”

“Do a better job at instructing then,” I challenge, squinting at him.

Luca moves in to hold the side of my hip this time, but when his long fingers barely graze over my sensitive skin, I immediately tumble into the water, pulling him with me unintentionally.

Once we’re above the water, he shouts, “What the fuck was that?!”

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