He took off without any pretense of letting me win, barely making a splash as he sliced through the water at professional speed. I stared at him for a beat, those broad shoulders and the dark tattoos shimmering with droplets of water.
When I finally managed to follow, there was no way I could win, so I lazily paddled over, then smirked when I reached the shore. “Not everything in life is a competition.”
“Says second place?” he asked playfully but then glanced at the boards. “Actually, scratch that. There’s no way I’m going to win on those. How does it even work?”
I walked him through the basics, handed over a board, and followed him back into the lake with my own, but ten minutes later, I was laughing so hard, my stomach hurt. Theo never lasted more than six seconds on the board, his attempts to maintain his composure while failing so spectacularly hilarious
“I object,” he said as he surfaced, slicking his wet hair back from his face.
I lay on my board beside him, arching an eyebrow when those green eyes flickered over to mine. “What are you objecting to, falling?”
“No, I’m objecting to this entire activity.”
“Just keep trying.”
His eyes widened. “I just did.”
“You stood up.”
“I think the more accurate phrasing is that I fell down.”
I chuckled. “Sure, but practice makes perfect.”
He held my gaze for a beat, his eyes sparkling with laughter, but then he muttered something under his breath and climbed back onto the board. Three seconds later, he fell again, his head shaking even as he surfaced.
“Okay, this is getting personal now.”
I laughed even harder than before when he scowled. “Show that board who’s the boss.”
He snorted. “It’s not me. That’s for sure.”
“Not yet, but it will be.”
It wasn’t. By the seventh attempt, even Theo was laughing and I was practically crying. He was so earnest about his struggles that it endeared him to me even more.
“I rode a motorcycle across North America. By myself,” he sputtered when he came up again, glaring at the board like he was about to bully it into submission. “I climbed a glacier and I survived truck-stop sushi a few times. This cannot be what takes me out.”
After trying a few more times, he finally flopped dramatically onto his back on the board and flung an arm over his eyes. “That’s it. I’m retiring.”
“You can’t give up,” I said, paddling over to him. “You lasted almost a full minute that time.”
“Exactly. I think I’ve achieved all I’m going to achieve in my paddleboarding career. The only board that understands me is a snowboard, so I’ll stick to that from now on. Surfboards, skateboards, and paddleboards clearly just don’t have the emotional capacity to handle me.”
I laughed again. “Are you really giving up?”
“I’ll drown if I don’t,” he muttered. “I’m exhausted. I need a vacation and a massage.”
I almost offered the massage right on the spot, especially since his bright purple swim trunks were clinging to his legs, showing off a pretty impressive outline of something I definitely shouldn’t have been noticing with my brother on the boat so close nearby. But in the end, I ignored the desire burning up my bloodstream and tethered our boards together.
The only reason I’d asked him to try this was to spend time with him anyway. I didn’t have any interest in him drowning trying to prove he couldn’t do it. After lying down on my back on my own board, we drifted farther from the main group, the lake rocking gently beneath us.
I hooked my hands behind my head and stared up at the bright blue sky. Theo did the same, both of us quiet for a long minute before he finally spoke. “I think I prefer floating.”
I smiled. “Is it because you’re bad at paddleboarding?”
“Nah, it’s because I’m excellent at floating.”
“It’s a useful skill to have,” I said. “I’m sure it took years to master it at this level.”
