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I wonder if this is what it’s supposed to feel like—to have someone in your life who shares your excitement and your fears and your secrets.

I look down at the box, but there’s no writing or labels that indicate what it might it be.

“Open it,” Grams encourages, tapping the envelope that’s taped to the box. I do as she asks and pull out the note.

You know what comes after you kick and push?

You coast.

Coast with me, Emerald Eyes?

I cover my smile with my hand and drop my chin to my chest, hiding my blush.

“Are you going to open it?” Grams asks.

I nod, lifting the lid on the box.

It’s a bright green skateboard.

My very own skateboard.

I look up at Grams, unable to contain my grin. Then I realize I’m shaking and I have no idea why. “It’s a beautiful day out,” she says.

And before I know it I’m out of bed, changing my clothes, grabbing my skateboard and running down the stairs. I stop half way and run back up to Grams. She’s waiting at the top with my camera bag in her hand. I thank her—actually say the words thank you—but that’s not why I came back. I hug her with one arm, my body buzzing with excitement. She hugs me back. “Praise Jesus, what a blessed day,” she murmurs.

I practically run out of the house and toward his apartment, skateboard under my arm. Before I get to his stairs, I hear Tommy yell my name from the yard and my gaze snaps to him and Josh and… my heart drops to my stomach.

Josh walks toward me, his smile wide but I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I can’t pull my mind off the beautiful girl standing next to Tommy.

Josh’s smile fades as he approaches. “Becca?” he says, but I still can’t move. I can’t breathe. His hands are on my shoulders now and his face is in my vision and for some reason I want to punch him. And puke. And if I could do both at the same time I probably would.

“Come meet Chloe,” he says. “My best friend’s wife.”

“So do you really like it?” he asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my leg.

I look down, feeling the warmth of his touch spread across my skin. “I love it, Josh. Really.”

“Good. That’s good. I mean, it’s lame, because I’m giving you something that’s kind of my thing, but I don’t know. I kind of want to share something with you, you know? And maybe next weekend we can do something with your photography?”

I face him. “You want to learn about it?”

“I want to learn everything about you, Becca.”

My breath catches.

He adds, “Well, as much as you want to share…”

Ten minutes later we’re pulling into a skate park. Once he’s parked, he turns to me and rolls his shoulders. “Ready to skate?”

“Ready to try not to suck at skating? Yeah.”

The second I’m out of the truck, he takes my hand and leads me to the path alongside the concrete playground. “Drop your board,” he says, and I carefully place it on the ground. For some reason, this makes him laugh. “Boards are durable, Becs. You don’t need to be so gentle.”

I look up, one eye squinting against the sun behind him. “But it’s so pretty and perfect.”

He smiles at that, his hand curling around my neck and his lips lowering to mine. He stops an inch away from my mouth. “You know what else is pretty and perfect?” he says, his voice husky. “You.” And then he kisses me. Just once. But it’s more than enough. He pulls back and taps my foot with his. “Get on.”

So I do, trying to remember how to place my feet from the last time he showed me. Once I’m settled, he grasps my waist and walks beside me, rolling me along. I ignore how his touch makes me feel and concentrate on trying to keep myself steady on the board. “Relax, Becca, I got you.”

Relax, he says, like it’s that easy. If only he knew that he’s the reason I can’t relax. That it’s his presence causing my feet to wobble. His touch causing me to tense. His breaths on my cheek preventing my own breaths from forming. We get about ten feet before I hear, “Well, well, if it isn't Joshua Warden!” I look to the guy standing right behind Josh.

Josh moans and rolls his eyes at the same time. Without turning around, he says, “I’m a little busy here, dude.”

“Sorry,” the guy says, kicking his board and holding the end of it like I’d seen Josh do a few times. “I just wanted to see if it was you.”

Josh straightens and turns to him. “Do I know you?”

The guy shakes his head. “No man, but I know you. I used to watch you skate this park when I was a kid. It's good to see you back around. You doing any comps?”

Josh shrugs. “Nah. I gave that up a few years back.”

“Sucks. I mean it's a shame.” The guy’s gaze shifts to me. “Have you seen him skate?”

I shake my head.

“I have these videos I took of him when I was, like, thirteen.” He looks back at Josh. “You were fifteen I think, doing shit that the pros do and you did it so effortlessly. I still have them if you want me to email them to you.”

“I'm good,” Josh answers quickly.

“Right,” the guy says, nodding. “Well, my buddies and I are on the half-pipe. I was telling them about your mad skills, but they didn't believe me. I kind of made a wager…”

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