“This time,relax.”
She laughed out loud at him. “I can’trelax!I’m about to screw this up and launch my ball into the ocean!”
“Nah, come on.” He strolled around behind her, looking her over like she was a car he was thinking about buying. “You’re so worked up that you’re stiff as an iron rod. Your shoulders are up around your ears.”
Nicole listened to his footfalls on the plastic grass mat behind herself. “No, they’re not.”
“They are.” Warmth and gentle weight pressed her shoulders, and he whispered, “Relax.”
Her shoulders dropped incrementally with a jitter like they’d clicked down a flywheel.
His chuckle behind her head was friendly like she was cute. “No,reallyrelax. Don’t just pretend to relax because that’s what you’ve been told to do.”
“Dude, get out of my head.”
His deep voice was closer. “Are you a firstborn or an only child?”
“First,” she whispered.
“Yes, and you got excellent grades in school.”
“I’m an engineer from a UC engineering school. So yeah, I took calculus my junior year of high school, and my grades were stellar.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned calculus.” His hands stroked the tops of her shoulders from her ears to the joint. “Is this all right?”
His fingers gently smoothed the cricks and crackling from her neck to her biceps, a slow squeeze that milked the tension away. “It’sfantastic.”
His thumbs caressed from her skull down the back of her neck, draining the stress from her spine. “None of this matters,” he whispered.
“Okay,” she breathed.
“You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to relax and swing.”
“But the club head has to be at maximum speed and squared up at the point of impact?—”
“No.Nothing matters. You can relax now.” His arms slid around her, his hands caressing down her arms to her fingers gripping the club. “Relax your grip. You’re strangling it.”
The warmth of his large body against her back and around her arms felt like he was cradling her.
“Nothing matters.” He stroked the backs of her hands clenched around the club with his strong fingers. “You’re just going to move, to twist, to dance in my arms. Got it?”
The warm air around Nicole’s face felt too thick to breathe, like she needed to gasp. “Sure.”
“It’s like sex,” he murmured, his voice lower and his breath feathering her ear. “Just relax and feel me. Let me hold you and make you move in my arms.”
Her lips felt swollen, and she nodded.
His hands guided her arms and twisted her shoulders as he moved the club up to the three o’clock position in her backswing, then back to the ball. “We go back, and we’re relaxed. We come back to the ball, and nothing matters. And again. And again.”
It was like dancing. He was leading her, holding her, his arms around her. “Okay.”
“A little farther. Relax everything. Feel my hands holding you.”
Oh, she did.
“The tempo is a waltz. You move onone,and the top of your backswing is the next measure. Ready?”
She nodded, the back of her head rubbing his strong shoulder.
