Page 81 of Into Pitch

Which, I suppose, tracks.

It had taken some convincing, but I’d eventually wore Alex down enough to get us out of the cabin to do something that wasn’t staring at each other.

He stands at the edge of the dock, evaluating the terrain that he’s clearly not accustomed to. It would hilarious if it wasn’t so damn pathetic. His hands are loose at his sides, but his posture is alert.

I’m convinced he thinks something is near the point of crawling out of the water just to take a bite of him. It’s clear the man doesn’t have outside recreational activities he enjoys that are… well, legal.

Though I did get him to dress reasonable for our little hike down here—even if I had to pick it out myself. The dark jeans, boots, and a jacket I wouldn’t let him button up. The sight of him without tension coiled through every muscle is… appropriately disorienting.

Or inappropriate?

Jury’s out still.

“You look like you’re preparing to interrogate the fish,” I tease as I come to stand beside him. Trying to see what he does as he glares down at the dark water, trying to figure out his rod and reel.

“They’re evasive.”

I snicker. “You’re gripping it like it owes you money. Christ, Alex. Relax.”

He glances down at the pole in his hands, then back at me. “It’s just unfamiliar.”

“You don’t say,” I grin.

He turns his body slightly toward me, posture attentive in a way that’s new. It’s irritatingly endearing to watch him actually suck at something. Even if it is just fishing.

“Explain it then,” he grunts.

I step closer and reach out without thinking, adjusting his hands on the rod. My fingers brush his knuckles and I don’t miss the way he stills. My mouth twitching as he leans into me a bit.

“Relax your grip,” I explain softly. “You’re not trying to win a fight.”

“It sort of seems counterintuitive,” He argues as he strangles the poor rod.

“Fishing isn’t about force, Alex. It’s all about patience. Go ahead and find some, I know it’s in there.” I grin despite myself.

He hums softly, looking back to me over his shoulder. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much, little fox.”

“Oh, I absolutely am.” I laugh and step back, gesturing to the water. “Okay, so now that you aren’t trying to murder the rod into submission, give it a good cast. Be mindful of me standing here though, please.”

He does as I ask him to.

Kind of.

I burst into laughter as he snaps it forward too quickly, and the hook sails past the water entirely, clanging against a rock with an embarrassing metallic ping.

We both just stare at it before Alex finally blinks away his shock.

“I have clearly done something wrong,” he mutters.

I bite down on my lip to keep from absolutely cackling. “You tried to overpower it.”

“That is my default setting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He retrieves the line and tries again. This time it lands in the water, hard enough to splash and send ripples scattering like startled birds.

“Better, but still aggressive.” I praise despite my amusement.