Page 3 of Adrift

We’ve been inseparable ever since.

As we come out of the locker room, my cousin, Bella, waves us over to the group of more kayakers. She had dressed with us in the locker room earlier, but then left to fill out her paperwork. “Hey! Right on time. He’s just about to start giving us a rundown of the safety measures.”

Both Melody and I find a spot next to Bella and look toward the instructor, a young Asian man named Felix. “Hey everyone! Thanks for being here on this lovely Saturday morning. It’s a bit breezy today, but nothing we can’t handle, right?”

A few of us respond with weak “Yeahs” before Felix continues, “Alright, so who here is brand-new to white water kayaking? Raise your hands.”

Melody, Bella, and I all raise our hands, looking around the group. A middle-aged man standing to our left raises his hand, smiling at us in companionship.

The three of us drove to Tahoe early this morning from the East Bay. My cousin had suggested taking white water kayaking lessons as a fun way to start the summer, and since I’ve been on this live-for-today kick and all that, I figured, why not?

I was hoping to see my one-year-old nephew–my late sister’s son–who lives here in town with his dad and grandparents while I was here, but Melody has to get back for a big family dinner this evening.

I make a mental note to text Karine, my sister’s mother-in-law, when I’m done kayaking to let her know that my plans have changed and I won’t be able to visit like I originally intended. She’s the only reason my family and I even have a relationship with my nephew, and I owe her at least that simple courtesy.

“Okay, great! Well, there’s nothing to worry about. I just like to have a sense of the skill levels I’m working with. I’ll be your instructor and guide on today’s four-hour tour of the Truckee River, so feel free to ask me any questions as I explain the basics of kayaking, but we’ll also have a safety patrol hanging out with us, in case we need him.” Felix looks past our shoulders to a man standing at the reception desk with his back to us. “There he is! Hey, King, do you mind raising your hand so these lovely folks know who you are?”

Said man–King?–peeks over his shoulder and eyes us briefly from under his ball cap. He raises a rather large and veiny arm in the air, giving us a quick wave before turning back to the paperwork in front of him. The receptionist standing in front of him, facing us, gives us a bright and hopeful smile.

I couldn’t get a good glimpse of the man’s face, but if his front is anywhere near as beautiful as his backside . . . well, I might just have to make my way over to Truckee for more kayaking lessons.

Lord, what department in heaven do they make men like him? I wonder if there’s a special application process to work there, maybe as a seamstress or a photographer. God knows I’m a decent journalist, too. I mean, I’m getting a degree in journalism and marketing, for crying out loud. Surely, The Almighty could use my talents to advertise His masterpieces.

My eyes stroll down King’s back languidly, starting from the dark hair curled under his cap. His broad shoulders and upper back are taut under his blue short-sleeve shirt, while his biceps are beckoning for a zip code of their own. They’re practically tearing the sleeves with their girthiness. Indecently, I might add.

Quite indecently.

I vaguely hear Felix give instructions on how to hold the paddle–something about a shaft and a grip and keeping it ‘right side up’–while my eyes devour King’s cinched waist and possibly the most incredible ass I’ve seen in my life. I honestly can’t imagine the number of buttock exercises he has to do every day to keep his ass so high and firm. I mean, it looks firm. Not like I’ve touched it to know for sure; not like I’d ever even dream of touching it.

Or holding it.

Or squeezing it.

Or . . ..

I’ll stop now.

Plus, one of my asscheeks is getting a cramp just from looking at him. I’m perusing the backs of his long lean legs–like the kind you see on soccer players–when Melody elbows me in the ribs, making me groan.

“Pay attention, drooler. You can admire the fine piece of man-meat later. This is important.”

“Pssh. He just seemed familiar, that’s all.” I hold the back of my neck and stretch it out from side to side, trying to get the crick out. All that twisting and turning to get a better look at this Hottie McHotterson has me needing an ice pack.

This is why I never date overly good-looking men. Not like I’m getting a million offers, but still, it’s a matter of principle. A girl is nothing without her principles, and one of my principles is to never let a good-looking man sway my sound decision-making skills.

Ten minutes later, we get our helmets on and head toward our kayaks on the riverbank. Felix wasn’t kidding. The breeze has definitely picked up, but the warm June day counters the morning chill. Bella, Melody, and I find three empty kayaks, lined up in front of each other, parallel to the shore. We follow along as Felix tells us how to get in and out of the kayaks, but my gaze wanders again, trying to find King.

When I can’t find him anywhere, I drag my kayak out to the water, feeling the freezing sprinkles on my bare calves. The current isn’t fast near the shore, but with the wind picking up today, I can see the white water rushing over the jagged rocks in the stream.

I take in a long, rejuvenating breath, trying to steady my heart rate and reminding myself of my new motto. Live for today. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. I have my friends, an expert guide who likes to give a lot of instructions, and a well-trained safety patrol, who I’m sure is somewhere around here.

Nothing is going to go wrong.

Felix yells at us to follow him with a wave of his arms as he paddles his kayak farther into the water. Even though there’s a steady breeze, the temperature is pleasant and my body is already starting to warm up, so I force myself to relax in my seat.

Melody moves ahead of me, seeming way more comfortable on the kayak, while Bella and I are more or less next to each other.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Bella calls, smiling. Her long, straight black hair with purple tips is pulled into a high ponytail, and she leans back in her seat, paddling comfortably.

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