Page 33 of Double Trouble

“Drama?” I ask.

“Always. I’m ignoring it today.”

I squeeze her knee. “Sounds like a good idea.”

The faintest of smiles crosses her lips, and she moves my hand so that my arm wraps around her shoulders. She tucks in and nods to my camera.

“Tell me how it works.”

I put the camera between us. “Well, this button here is super important.”

She gives me a glare. “That’s the on button.”

“And it’s important.”

She elbows me in the rib. “Tell me techy stuff, silly boyfriend.”

Only because I’m a sucker when she calls me that, I take her through what I plan on doing, how I plan on editing it, and what I hope to do for her audition tape. If she’s bored by my rambling, she doesn’t show it, her eyes meeting mine every time I look at her. And she asks questions, making me feel like I’m some sort of virtuoso videographer, when really, I just like it a lot.

The lights dim on the audience and cheers erupt as the first boarder waves from the top of the half-pipe. An announcer tells us it’s Eric Greer from Indianapolis, and then a timer chimes down from fifteen seconds to zero.

I hit record and get Eric’s run. He doesn’t do too shabby, but he’s nowhere near Mad’s runs. The more boarders we go through, the more I realize how great the judges’ poker faces are. They don’t have a single tell from what I can see, but I’ll have to study the tape later to be sure.

After an hour and a half, the lights go up, and they announce they’re breaking for forty-five minutes. I shut my camera and sling it over my shoulder, eager to stand and stretch. Three hours in the car added with another couple hours in a hard seat, and my butt is beyond numb. I give it a couple of good smacks, much to Brink’s amusement.

“I’ll wake it up,” she says, then whacks my ass so hard that it wakes up every other part of my body.

“Easy. I’m fragile.”

She giggles and goes for another hit, but I catch her wrist and pull her to her feet, wrapping her in my arms. Her hands link at the small of my back, and I love how easy that was.

I could tell her right now.I love you. I could let it slip on out, and it would feel right.

But I don’t.

“Are you okay to risk losing our seats?” she asks after a minute.

“You hungry?” No judgment if she is, but she ate that entire bag of Doritos on the way up.

“No. I’ve got the itch. And that parking lot has so many good curbs.”

I silently chuckle and nod above her. “I’ll tape you out there.”

“No, boyfriend. I want you to board with me. Let’s just have fun.”

I raise a brow, knowing there is something behind her tone but being too chicken to ask about it.

We make our way outside, and already, there are several boarders out, taking advantage of the parking lot. Pretty sure it’s not legal, but the security doesn’t seem to give a shit, so we jog to Mad’s car and grab our boards. I settle my camera in the trunk, carefully like a baby, then we board toward the hot spots.

Mad’s a woman possessed. The competition must’ve really inspired her, because she’s doing things I haven’t seen done in years. She lands most, misses a few, but she draws a crowd. I knew I should’ve kept my camera.

“Hey, Tanner… get in here!” she says, and I casually slide in, staying on my board and doing the basics. Sure, I can do the half-pipe, but my floor work isn’t up to par. Guess that’s courtesy of having access to the pipe nearly every day.

Mad pushes over to me, and I reach out to catch her as she kicks her board up and it lands in her hand with ease. There’s some applause, but she doesn’t seem to notice it’s for her.

“You should’ve let me record you.”

“I’m just messing around.”

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