“It’s good, a little tight.”
“It’ll feel better once we get in the water.”
I really hope so, because my swimsuit is giving me a major wedgie. I read that most surfers don’t wear anything underneath, but this one is rented, so it’s a requirement. Even if it wasn’t the surf shop’s rule, it’s definitely mine.
Leo stops after we walk a few feet in the sand. “Let’s set our stuff here.”
I drop my towel and backpack. Gazing out at the water, I honestly can’t fathom going in it.
Looking over at me, he asks, “You can swim, right? I probably should have asked you that earlier…”
“I can swim. I just…don’t very often.”
“We won’t go out far. There’s no drop offs, so it’s a steady decline.”
I pull at the neck of my wetsuit, which is starting to feel more like a scratchy turtleneck.
“Hey, before I forget, I grabbed you something.” Leo reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of flip-flops.
I raise a hand to my cheek. “Thank you.” I feel the smooth leather of the flip-flops, and then read the tag. “Rainbow, Sierra Brown.”
“I hope you like them,” Leo says.
“Nice and neutral.” Like the nude heels in my passenger seat. I went barefoot in the car but brought my heels in case footwear was required, but I don’t mention that.
Laying the flip-flops on the sand, I slide my feet into them. My toes wiggle, feeling out their new summer home. These are not the flimsy, foam ones I remember growing up.
“Wow, they’re really comfortable. I love them. I just hope I remember how to walk in them. Might be surfing and walking lessons today.”
“I have a PhD in flip-flops, so I can definitely teach you that too.” Leo grins over at me, and I cherish the warmth of his smile. “Ready to get started surfing?”
“Mhmm,” I say meekly.
“We practice on land first if that makes you feel better.”
“It does.” I push my tongue against the roof of my mouth, willing the moisture to return.
“First thing you need to learn is how to pop up. Let’s get you situated on your board.” He straightens my board parallel to our towels. Then he sets his board next to mine. “I’m going to teach you the ‘figure four’ technique.” I watch him lay across his board on his stomach and quickly realize I should do the same.
I gingerly lower myself onto my board then turn my head to face him. This feels more intimate than I expected. I’m face-to-face with Leo Cruz. Butterflies zoom around in my gut. I don’t have much time to dwell on our forced proximity though, because Leo is onto the next instruction.
“Your goal is to step your back foot forward and then plant your front foot. You want to get your feet onto the board without using your knees.”
Leo demonstrates.
Looks simple enough. I attempt to recreate his movement, and I’m like a turtle trying to stand on two feet. I wobble and quickly splat onto my stomach again.
“Good try,” Leo says brightly. “Are you familiar with yoga poses?”
“Kind of.” My college roommates convinced me to take a class with them on Thursday nights my senior year. I was not sad when my MVP internship made me work past yoga class time. Which reminds me…I definitely need to send them a picture, because they’ll never believe I’m doing this.
Leo continues. “Think of it like you’re doing the cobra pose. When you push your hands into the board, pop your legs into position.”
I take a deep breath and watch Leo shoot up with impressive ease. I know, from my first lame attempt, that it takes some serious ab strength, especially to do it as quickly and smoothly as Leo does.
I shake my head to rid the swirling thoughts of Leo’s abs and push myself up on my elbows. “I can do this.”
“You got this,” Leo confirms, standing with his hands on his hips next to me.
