Page 31 of All at Once

I’ve never been this ticklish with clothes on, but without it, apparently, I’m an absolute wreck.

My laughter isn’t helping the situation either when Luca exhales, probably now frustrated at a lack of an explanation. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’m just super ticklish.” To my dismay, I keep laughing.And way louder.

He bites down on his lips and then purses them, confirming how he’s also trying not to laugh now. Which only makes me laugh even harder.

I barely hear a trace of his laughter slip from his lips, before I challenge, “Go on. Say what you’re thinking.”

For a virgin, I sure have a dirty mind. He’s most likely just wondering why I’m such a mess. But a part of me also wonders if he’s thinkinghow does she have sex if I barely touched her side? And the answer to that question would beshe sadly does not.

Instead he snorts. “So you’re clumsyandticklish?Perfectcombination to learn how to surf.”

I ignore his comment, trying to gather myself. “Okay, let’s continue.”

“How?” He scoffs. “I barely touched you, and now we’re both drenched.”

I know we’re already in the water, but I’m pretty sure his words just made me evenmorewet. But I need to focus, so I suggest the first thing my distracted mind can think of at this very second, “Maybe if I place your hands on my skin instead, it won’t feel as ticklish.”

Luca’s brows immediately furrow, his eyes widening at my direct choice of words.

I’m used to my own awkwardness that I don’t see the big deal of what I say until seeing his reaction to it. “Maybe that sounded better in my head,” I clarify.

“I highly doubt that. But ok.” He reaches out his hand toward me. “Let’s try again. C’mon,” he offers, before helping me regain my balance onto my surfboard.

“Thanks,” I say, entranced by his now soaked hair.

It feels almost wrong being so focused on him while he’s taking the time to help me, when he could be surfing with his friends. But these are among the many things I’ve been deprived of my whole life, even the most subtle details enough to leave me a flustered mess. Like how salt water droplets are dancing all over his skin right now.

I take a deep breath from all the forces I’m feeling at once as I struggle to push my weight onto the board again.

After we’ve both regained our balance, Luca asks, “What feels more comfortable to you? Having your left or right foot forward?”

I try both ways and conclude, “I think left foot forward is better.”

“That means you’re a regular footed surfer,” he explains. “Goofy footed surfers have their left foot in the back.”

I’m probably giving him the blankest expression, trying my best to process all of this information.

He sighs, before continuing, “So now make sure your right foot is perpendicular to the board, while your left foot should turn a little inward to your right foot at almost a 45-degree angle. Think of it almost like diagonal to the board’s tip.”

Remembering his previous advice, I bend my knees, while also matching the foot placement that he just explained. I’m not falling.Yet. So that’s a good sign. But that lasts for a good three seconds though, when I’m now briefly distracted by the way the sun rays are beaming off the golden strands in his hair. It’s enough to make me slightly tremble again.

In the flash of a moment where I’m about to fall into the water for the second time, Luca takes me by surprise and firmly holds my hand. “You’re okay. I got you,” he reassures, looking right into my wide eyes.

It occurs to me that this is the first time a guy has held my hand.Ever. Even if it’s not in the romantic sense it might as well be, given how it sends the strongest current across my body with how confidently he’s holding onto me.

“That was close. Thanks,” I quietly reply.

Sensing how startled my eyes must look right now, he says, “The more you fall, the better you’ll get at it. So don’t stress. Half of it is in your mind.” He lets go of my hand, taking the electric waves with him. “Like with anything else, a lot of surfing is just psychological.”

I simply nod. Mostly since I’m a little baffled by his self-awareness and attention to detail. It’s obvious that if he cares about something, hereallyinvests in it.

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“It doesn’t look like there’s any waves today,” I declare, looking closer to the shore, while we take a break in the water.

“Yeah. It’s pretty low tide today,” Luca says. “If we got here earlier it would have been better.”

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