Page 86 of Tides That Bind

“No you’re not.” I bend down and lift her ankles and she giggles when I pull her back. “Now you’re where you were tomorrow. Now, go. Paddle.”

Harper’s body rises and falls with the sigh she lets out butshe raises one arm and cycles the other, mimicking a paddling motion and not being careful to toss sand in my direction as she does. In fact, I notice her hands are cupped.

“Extend your arms.”

She does, pushing up, but her placement is wrong.

“Keep them on deck. Don’t hold the rails.”

I wait for Harper to correct and I hate myself for letting my eyes linger on the curve of her ass cheeks peeking out of the bottom of the wetsuit. I thought her in yoga shorts, spreading her legs on that hoop was bad.

No. Wetsuit Harper is another level of torture.

I’m thankful for the constraint of my own wetsuit because my traitorous dick twitches.

“Front leg in position.”

Here’s where Harper has a bit of an advantage compared to other beginner surfers. She’s strong but super limber so the motion is fluid and natural.

And, of course, she does the next step—releasing her hands—without me giving the command.

“Good.” I swing my hands before clapping them together. “Again.”

Still holding position, she twists her neck back to me. “I thought surfing happensinthe water.”

“To surf, you need tostand.”

Harper looks down, her feet still in place.

“You think you’re not going to eat shit?” I ask, reading her confidence.

Lifting her shoulders, she shrugs gently.

“Fine,” I huff, and I pull up the top half of my wet suit. “Dinner on you if you fall the first three times.”

Harper lugs the long board easier than I thought she could, making it past me before I fully tug my zipper up. She stops when her ankles are barely submerged and looks back at me, the nerves edged into her face. I could tease her, but I’m not really in that kind of mood.

“I’m here.”

Apparently the reassurance of my presence was all Harper needed because she turns back to the ocean and marches on.

“I’ve got it,” she insists, trying to hold the board steady as she lays it down, pushing against the current and fighting to keep it steady enough to mount.

I grab onto it. “I know you do, but let me help you with this part.”

I move with her deeper into the water, lightly holding onto the board so she doesn’t have to drag my weight as she fights the tide.

“Wait,” Harper says as I help her turn the board so she faces the shore. “How will I know when to go?”

“I’ll tell you. But if you do it right, you’ll know.”

Harper takes an anxious breath.

“Don’t be nervous.” I loosen my hold entirely. We’re deeper now and even though my toes graze soft sand, I know I’m about to have to tread.

“I’m not.”

“You are. It’s okay if you fall, just try to drop to the side. It’d be a shame if you smacked that pretty face into the board.” My words make Harper’s eyes round, but the situation at hand makes it easy for me to move past it. I give her a push. “Paddle.”

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