Page 55 of True Abandon

“Yes, you are. You hate not being good at something—it makes you question your ability and then your intelligence.”

“Calm down there, Doctor Phil. I just don’t feel like golfing today.”

“You do this to yourself all the time. You saw us hit the ball straight and now you’re panicked that you won’t do it as well, so you’re backing out.”

I look down at the ground and then up to the side before finally settling on the hem of his cargo shorts. “You hardly know anything about me.”

He gets closer, his voice lower than before. His words only for me to hear. “I know how your eyes dart to the side when you’re mad. I know you twirl the ends of your braid when you’re thinking about something important. And I know when you bite on the inside of your mouth, you’re nervous. Those are tells you’ve had since you were fourteen.”

“Maybe I’ve changed?” I whisper.

He leans in even closer, his lips right up to my ear. “Your leg hasn’t stopped shaking, and your hands are twitching—those are new. I saw them in the hospital, and they’re back right now. Is it me that makes you so nervous or just life?”

My gaze is focused on the navy-blue t-shirt he’s wearing and how his chest is defined through the thin fabric, and the sweet aroma of honey pouring off his warmed skin.

I look up and catch his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard. When I dare meet his eyes, they’re staring down at me, as if they already know the answer.

“You.” I let out a long breath.

“Good. Then golf shouldn’t be so scary after all.”

Before I know it, Jax has the ball on the ground and me standing alongside it.

When he steps back, I get myself into the stance. I’ve golfed with my dad enough times to know what to do. With my feet shoulder-width apart and my knees slightly bent, I grab the driver, wind up, and hit the ball…into the rough.

My shoulder sinks as I look up into the sky—this is why I didn’t want to play anymore.

“May I?” Jax is at my side. “Let me show you something.”

I wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ll play it.”

“No way. We don’t mind giving you another shot. Right guys?” He turns to Mark and Shayna who adamantly tell me to try again.

Feeling ten kinds of embarrassed, I give in to Jax and hand him my club. “Fine.”

He stands behind me and wraps his hands around my waist, placing the driver in my hands. My body stills at the feeling of his lean, muscular body up against mine. Jax is like an old, warm blanket wrapped around me on a cool night.

“Hold it like this, tucking the thumb of your left hand inside your right palm.” His callused hands are gentle while they adjust my grip. When he’s done, he lays his hands over mine, raising it up to the right. “Now, wind up, bringing the club up and around, and follow through.”

Leaning into my body, we swing together just as he described. With each motion, I can’t help but feel every inch of him from his strong biceps to his pectorals hard against my back, and all the way down to his groin and the feeling of him so close to my backside. I have to control my breaths to remind myself these emotions can’t exist between us anymore.

“Lean into your left leg and shift your weight forward.” We do it again, this time allowing my back leg to bend as the weight shifts off of it and pivoting on my toe to continue the follow through.

With great ease, he continues to hold me, guiding me through the swing. Our legs are practically molded together so when I bend and pivot, he’s right there beside me.

“You got this,” he murmurs into my ear, and it sends a shiver down my back.

When he steps away, I feel naked and cold despite the warm Hawaiian sun. I watch as he places another ball on the tee.

With a few steadying breaths, I reposition myself in front of the ball. I look to the side, cringing at the mere sight of them staring at me—judging me, being overly critical…

“Close your eyes,” Jax speaks softly. “Forget we’re here. Just close your eyes, and do what I just showed you.”

I do as he says. I recall the feel of Jax behind me, the way his body pressed to mine, and it instantly calms me. I imagine his hands over mine, gripping the club, and feel every ripple of his body nestled firmly to against my back. Together in my mind, we pull it straight back, and with a rush, we swing and follow through, pivoting with the action.

“That’s my girl!” Jax bellows.

Shana’s claps are right behind it. I open my eyes just in time to see the ball land on the fairway. It’s not as far as I’d have liked it to go, but at least it’s straight.