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“Are you taking the piss?” Chris called back. The sun streamed through the trees and into her eyes.
“I was offering to help,” she replied, stepping closer and bending while holding her putter out. “You need to hold your putter like this.”
“No way. Shouldn’t I be doing this?” he said, pretending to pole dance with his stick.
“Never mind,” Lucie huffed with a roll of her eyes. There was an awkwardness between them that hadn’t been there when they’d chatted at the beach.
“You don’t like my dancing?” he asked as he turned so he wasn’t facing her. He reversed towards her while bouncing his bum. “I’m twerking.”
“You’re what?”
“Twerking. It was on YouTube,” he said as his bum got closer. “It’s making you smile. I know it is.”
Lucie held onto her smile as hard as possible, twisting her mouth into a variety of shapes to prevent it from appearing. “Nope, no smile here.”
“Not even when I do this?” He spanked his bum as it bounced. He gave her a quick wink over his shoulder.
It was too much. The coolest guy she’d met was “twerking” and spanking his arse to make her smile. Laughter bubbled in her throat, bursting out before she quickly covered her mouth.
“I made you laugh,” he said, holding the putter above his head in triumph. “I win!”
“Fine,” she replied, rolling her eyes but unable to push down the corners of her mouth into anything less than a grin. “I’m still beating you, though.”
“True.” He furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin dramatically. “I’d best get this ball in then.”
He squatted down as if he was in a professional golf tournament and not trying to putt a ball between two giant plastic toadstools. “Hmmm,” he murmured, popping a finger to his lips in an exaggerated manner. “What to do? What to do?”
He stood again and bent over. His baseball shirt rode up and revealed his back above the waistband of his shorts. His skin was a little tanned and unblemished.
Stop staring.But heat filled her cheeks before covering her body like a blanket as she gawked.
“Am I annoying you yet?” he asked without turning.
“No.” The one-syllable word came out strangled.
Chris turned, and his brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“Yep. I think I swallowed a fly,” Lucie lied as she pretended to swat non-existent flies around her. “Can’t get away from them here.”
He shrugged before returning to his shot and smacking the ball way too hard for the two metres it needed to cover. It flew off the little patch of green and landed in the bush.
They continued to be stuck even when they found the ball, got back to the green, and putt it. Families surrounded them, either waiting for them to finish each hole or delaying them from getting to the next as small children tried to putt the ball. One little girl picked up the ball and dropped it in the hole while her parents were busy with her baby brother.
“I got a one hole,” she shouted proudly.
“Well done, darling,” the dad shouted back, his attention on the baby decked out in blue bawling from the pram as an exhausted mum cooed over them.
“We’re going to be here a while,” Lucie whispered, breaking the silence.
“Let’s talk about last night then,” Chris replied with a blank face. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here today. You were kinda rude to me at the bowling alley.”
She rounded on him. “I was rude? Me? You got me in trouble when you spoke to my dad the way you did.”
“I was defending you,” he said with a huff. “No one else was on your side.”
“I don’t need anyone on my side,” she grunted.
“He shouted at me in front of my dad after you left,” Chris said, a sadness laced through his words. “He told me that I shouldn’t come anywhere near you again, or he’d make trouble for my dad and me and get us thrown out of this place.”
