Page 96 of Holiday Love
With exaggerated reluctance, she tugs it off and tosses it at my face. I snatch it out of the air and bury my nose in it like a lunatic. “Smells like victory.”
That makes Helen laugh with her head thrown back, the sound loud and bright. I laugh with her, but then my humor fades, replaced by something heavier. “You really think I can do this?” My voice drops. “Pass the exam?”
My bravado slips. Insecurity rushes through me, a drowning wave. I know that from the outside I usually look confident, unshakable, but right now I doubteverything. Myself. My future.
“You’ll pass.” Helen leans forward and cups my jaw, steady and sure, forcing me to meet her gaze. “To succeed, we have to practice, to prepare. Just like how you helped me talk to Lindsey. Taught me to surf.”
I swallow and drop my eyes to the bedspread. “Sometimes…in the past, I think one of the reasons I didn’t try too hard was because if you don’t try, then you can’t really fail.”
Her hand smooths up and down my arm, slow and calming. “Or you can try and prove to yourself that you can do it.” Her touch is gentle, but her voice turns to pure steel, like she won’t baby me through this. “You’re way smarter than you think, Teddy. The only way to fail is to give up, and I won’teverlet you do that.”
She sounds so confident it makes my throat tighten. I can almost see it now, the version of me she believes in. The one who’s not afraid to take risks, who rises to the occasion.
“You’re right.” I crack my knuckles, stretch my neck like a fighter stepping into the ring. “Next question.”
Her eyes narrow as she reads the paper. “Latitude lines are—?”
“Horizontal.” My gaze drags deliberately down the length of her body, heat curling low in my stomach as memory sparks. “Like the way you spread out for me last night.”
“Teddy!” Helen’s cheeks flare pink. She swats my thigh with the packet, but she’s biting back a laugh.
“What?” I laugh, raising my hands in mock innocence. “Relating it back to real life helps me remember.”
She rolls her eyes, lips twitching.
Without a word, I point at her shorts.
Helen shakes her head at me but stands anyway. She shimmies them down over her hips, then steps out, first one leg and then the other, with the effortless grace of a dancer. Once that’s done, she stands before me wearing only a black lace bra and matching panties.
I stare, mesmerized by the sight. “I have a sudden urge to become a lifelong learner. Can you tutor me every night?”
Helen chuckles, then lifts her chin, all mock authority. “Eyes up here, hotshot.” She points two fingers to her face. With difficulty, I drag my gaze away from her beautiful body.
“Next question.” She continues, “You’re piloting a small boat, and you see a red buoy marked with the number six. What do you do?” She gives me a look that’s triumphant, like she knows I’ll get it wrong, but I remember Jamie drilling this into me last week. I smirk. “Keep it on my starboard side when returning to port.Red, right, returning.”
Her brows rise, impressed despite herself. “Well, well, well. Someone actually listened.” She hooks a finger under the strap of her bra, dragging it slowly off her shoulder before reaching behind to undo the clasp. She hesitates, and I catch it, that beat of insecurity, of self-consciousness. It’s in the way her breath hitches and her hands falter like she’s not sure she can go through with it.
I silently hold my breath. Waiting to see what she does.
She steadies herself and shrugs her shoulders forward. The bra slips to the floor.
My chest tightens, not just with want but something heavier. Pride. Awe. She has no idea what it means, this quiet act ofcourage, choosing to bare herself, trusting me enough to see her exposed like this. The Helen I met months ago would’ve hidden behind a turtleneck, but now she’s standing here, chin lifted, shoulders back. Vulnerable and defiant all at once. The sight of her nearly undoes me. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it.
She’s breathtaking.
“God bless the United States Coast Guard,” I whisper hoarsely, equal parts wonder and want.
Her laugh bursts out, warm and amused, sunlight in the middle of the storm. She points to the study guide, eyes dancing. “Next one.”
I sit forward, my nerves lit with anticipation.
Helen flips to the next page. “All right, sailor boy. You’re approaching another vessel head-on. What’s the rule of action?”
I smile and lift my chin, confident as hell. “Easy. The boat with the bigger engine has right of way.”
Her grin is instant, victorious. She points at me. “Wrong!”
My smirk slips. “What? That makes sense.”
