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MOLLIE

I’m going to get so wet.

Staring at Hunter, who is shirtless and balancing with loose limbs on his paddleboard in front of me, I ignore the teasing whispers of my friends. They’re still stuck on the possibility I could have a “vacation fling” with him and his current appearance is not stemming the tide.

What I’m more worried about is my complete lack of balance.

I’m kneeling on my paddleboard while everyone around me stands. The three guys I met this morning are even waving their paddles at each other in a mock sword fight.

Even in this position, I’m wobbling. I’m the person who can’t hold tree pose for more than a second in yoga. It doesn’t matter how hard I stare at a spot on the wall or “soften my gaze” or whatever instructors have told me to try; the truth is, I’m an unbalanced person and always will be.

This water doesn’t look too bad. I can’t see the bottom of the lake we’re on, but I can see at least a foot under the surface. There’s nothing scary in here. It’ll be fine when I fall over.

“Try standing,” one of the instructors—not Hunter—encourages me. “You can get a lot more power in your stroke if you stand.”

“Try it for a minute,” Nora urges. She and Sophie are standing on their boards nearby, looking lithe and sporty in their swimsuits. Their life vests don’t even look that bulky on them. I’m wearing shorts and a sunshirt because I don’t want to a) get sunburnt, or b) flash my ass at everyone here while I flail around on this board. I told them I hate trying new things. It’s because I’m so bad at everything at first.

It’s clear that they’re not going to let me get away with not even trying. Still, I wait until some of the other people in the group have sped away in all directions across the lake so fewer people see me. My legs are trembling as I carefully stand, one leg after another. I almost freeze when I have one leg in front of me, but Nora and Sophie are watching. It feels so high up here, like I’m standing on water. My brain screams, Unnatural ! I hope no one can see how badly I’m shaking, half hunched over so my chest is parallel to the board.

Now I need to pick up my paddle and slowly…carefully…straighten up.

It happens then, I slip. I throw my arms out to both sides, knowing there’s nothing to catch myself on and I’m definitely going in.

“Whoa!” Someone catches my right hand and holds as steady as a rock. I don’t fall. I look over at Hunter, who is floating on his board next to me looking serious.

“Plant your feet a little wider on the board,” he tells me, his voice calm and firm. I do as he tells me. “And don’t lock your knees. That’s right.”

My butt is sticking out behind me, I’m bending my knees so much. I’m basically doing squats on this board and must look ridiculous.

“Now shuffle back on the board a few inches. You should be standing just behind the center line.”

“Are you sure?” I squeak. Despite all evidence of its stability, I’m worried about the board flying out from between my legs.

“I’m sure,” he says, still holding my hand. I shuffle back until I’m doing my squat on the back half of the board.

“There you go. This is the position you should keep while you paddle. Can you remember that?”

My thighs are burning. What are they going to torture me with next? I nod mechanically. “Got it.”

“You can kneel to paddle,” Hunter says gently. “There’s nothing wrong with it. No wrong way to get some exercise if you’re having fun. Try it.”

I cling to Hunter until I’m back on my knees on the board.

“Try sitting,” he suggests. I don’t look up at him, because the sun is behind him, but I obey his instructions. When I sit with my legs crossed, I stop shaking. I try an experimental paddle, stroking it through the water at my side. I don’t move much—and that’s OK because I like going slow. It’s safer.

“There you go!” Hunter sounds much more excited for me than this warrants. “Fun, right?”

Looking back at him, I smile. “I can do this.”

“Great. Keep at it,” he tells me. “And later when you jump in, you can do it on your terms.”

Laughing too loudly out of relief, my heart rate slowly settles back to a normal speed. Now I can appreciate the gorgeous setting we’re in, a lake surrounded by slopes of evergreen that go vertical, leaping out of the ground to attack the sky in mountain shape. We’re only a few miles from town, and still it feels like we’re deep in nature. The cold water is still, the sky is blue. A postcard couldn’t be more beautiful.

Sticking close to shore, I paddle around like that for a while, watching as everyone else disappears. Nora and Sophie are racing each other across the lake. The three guys around our age start chasing them, coming from far across the water. Everyone is going much faster and farther than me.

I sort of want to try to stand up again, but I’m worried it will be another disaster.

Hunter keeps circling back to check on me. I watch him glide across the water toward the island in the center of the lake, stop to talk to the family resting on their boards as they float on the surface, then head back my way.

My eyes fill with tears of self-pity. Hunter’s so patient to babysit me. He must hate it. How could he not?

He stops paddling once he’s close enough to talk to me. He doesn’t say anything. He puts his paddle across the front of his board and sits down astride it, legs hanging in the water on either side. We sit, drifting on the mild waves, Hunter watching what we can see of the rest of the group and me watching Hunter. I can’t help it. The man is shirtless and his muscles are like a movie star’s. Except, I bet he comes by them naturally, not from a gym.

“Aren’t you going to burn?” I blurt out, my brain apparently stunned by the sheer expanse of bare skin.

Hunter looks over his shoulder at me. He grins. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m doing OK. But you know, maybe to be safe…” And then he slips over the side of his board into the water.

Hunter and I could almost be alone here, with everyone else far across the lake. We’ve drifted from shore a little to where it’s deep enough that Hunter probably can’t touch the bottom. His head rises back above the surface. He holds onto his board while he throws his head back and runs his hand over his hair like a wet dream.

Am I actually asleep right now? What would a bolder, dream-Mollie do?

“Don’t give me ideas,” I try, experimentally flirting. My cheeks immediately feel hot, but maybe that’s the sun.

Hunter looks up at me, smiling. “I’m trying. Really pulling out all the stops here, Mollie.”

My heart flutters a little. Is he flirting back? “Why?”

“I want you to have fun on this trip.”

“I’m having fun,” I protest. I watch the muscles in his shoulders flex as he keeps his hold on the board, floating off the side. Don’t get this view in the city much.

“Are you?” he challenges me. “Would anything make this more fun?”

Being better at this would be more fun . I don’t want to say that, because it might make Hunter encourage me to try again. While trying to think about it, I wipe the sweat off the top of my lip. I dip my other hand in the cool water.

“It’s nice in here,” he coaxes.

I pull off my shirt, exposing my shoulders and bikini-clad breasts to the sun, and slide into the water. I don’t go all the way under, holding tight to my board so I don’t lose it.

Hunter splashes me gently. “There you go. Living in the moment. Making memories. How’s that feel?”

I splash him back. “Shut up. You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

“I’m not babysitting you. I’m having fun, too.”

I’m skeptical and give him a look that says so.

“Why do you think it’s so hard to be here with you?” Hunter raises one arm and gestures around us. “Look at this. It’s great, isn’t it?”

Looking around, I take in the scene. The gentle lap of the water against the board under my arm. The green trees lining the shore. The sun beating down from a cloudless blue sky. This man, insisting he’s enjoying himself. And having nothing better to do with my time. “OK, you have a point.”

He laughs. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve always been a worrier.” I’m embarrassed to admit this to someone like him, someone who seems to live his life to the absolute fullest.

“Better than never planning for what could go wrong.”

“Is it?”

“In my line of business, it is.”

I smile at him across my board and he smiles back across his. It’s suddenly like we’re sitting across from each other on a first date. Making small talk and learning each other’s body language. Shit . I want that to be true so badly it takes my breath away.

“What are you worried about right now?” he asks.

And I can’t tell him the truth, so I say, “That a water snake is going to slither up my pants.” It’s not un true.

Hunter throws back his head and laughs. “Don’t worry, I’d pull it out if it did.”

“You’re supposed to say there are no water snakes in this lake!” I conveniently ignore the mental image of Hunter sticking his hands down my pants. Was that flutter in my shorts from him or an actual creature floating around this lake? I decide to hoist myself back up on my board. It takes a few tries.

“Need a boost?” Hunter circles under his board and holds out his hand when I’m mid-way out of the water.

“Maybe,” I huff, clinging to my board with both arms and hoping it doesn’t flip. The next thing I feel is Hunter’s hand on my ass, shoving me up and onto the board. That time the flutter was definitely not a water snake.

Sitting with the board between my legs, I watch Hunter easily climb back onto his and try not to imagine what this metaphor would lead to if we were on a real date. Then he throws another smile over his shoulder at me and says, “Back to work.”

As he paddles away and Nora and Sophie show up to tease me about having a “moment” with my “fling,” I cling to the reminder about having fun. Because Hunter distracted me from my worries long enough for me to realize, I am.