"Put some elbow grease in it, won't you?" I instruct Brodie, watching his hands work all too gently against the surfboard with the block of wax. I bend myself down in the sand next to him, our bodies now sitting side-by-side. I reach over, my hand brushing past his arm before my hand grips around his, squeezing against the back of his hand and the bar of wax beneath it. Brodie's skin is warm, immediately sending heat shooting through my body, but I quickly brush the sudden change of temperature aside, directing him further. "Like this," I say, adding force behind our movements and watching the white lines become more prominent and visible against the floral board. "You really want it to be a thick layer, or else you're going to wipeout as soon as you get up in the water."

His coffee-brown eyes are suddenly focused on mine, that annoying and charming smile of his starting to play on his lips. I release my hold on him, clearing my throat, and directing my eyes' attention to the sapphire sea beside me. "I think you can handle the rest," I say matter-of-factly. My eyes quickly glimpse over in Brodie's direction, and I watch as he chuckles silently to himself, pulling his gaze away from me and continuing to work against the surfboard's surface.

The muscles in his arms are more visible, as well as the veins running down them and I find the seconds becoming longer as my gaze lingers on them, until his voice speaks up, forcing me to quickly pull them away. "How long have you been surfing for?"

"Oh man," I say, thinking back and recalling the memory of catching my very first wave. It was my eighth birthday and Dad decided to surprise me with my very first surfboard (hands down, still the best present I've ever been gifted). I spent that whole entire day out in the water, my skin becoming blistered and red under the February sun as I waited patiently to catch the perfect wave. It came alright, and riding it showed me what the true feeling of exhilaration and passion was. More importantly, I was finally introduced to my first true love...

The ocean.

"10 years," I answer simply, not wanting to bore him with the details of it all.

His neck twists, cocking his head back to me and taking further interest into the specifics I intentionally left out, "And who taught you, Miss Lelani?"

I keep my grin hidden as I answer this next question, crossing my arms across my chest in a confident manner, "Well, I did, of course."

"No way," he smirks, now putting a complete stop to waxing his surfboard. Brodie's hands pull against the bottom hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and peeling it away from his body, exposing my eyes to his toned chest. I immediately notice a pink scar, etching itself into his skin from the middle of his tanned torso to his backside.

Lelani. Eyes back to his face.

"You're telling me you learned all by yourself? How did you even know what to do? Where to even start?" He casually balls up the black fabric in his hands, using it to wipe away the sweat beginning to form at the edge of his forehead.

"I just watched," I admit, shrugging my shoulders. "Sometimes you've just gotta sit back and observe things. You'd be surprised how much more you can learn that way."

"I think I know what you're saying. I like observing things, too" Brodie confesses, locking his eyes with mine. "You're pretty fun to watch."

My eyes roll at that statement, "Strictly professional, Maverick. Remember? None of this shit," I say, motioning my finger between the two of us.

He laughs, shaking his head side-to-side, the brown unruly hair on top moving along with his movements, "Not like that." He gulps, his smile fading slightly and his face becoming more serious. "Like that day at the beach. Watching you surf was nice. I don't know how to explain it," his voice fades as he tries to gather what he wants to say, "You looked powerful. Like you knew exactly what you were doing."

Now I'm finding it harder to bite back my smile, and so I just decide to let it show this time. His words replay in my head, making my stomach swirl.

Powerful.

I didn't always feel that way but damn if it isn't an attribute I'm constantly aspiring to be. Not knowing how exactly to respond to his compliment, I just decide to say, "Alright, then. Your board looks waxed enough, I guess." My eyes inspect the board, running examining fingers over the smooth, but sticky ridges covering its surface. "I suppose that brings us to our next lesson of the evening."

"Sweet," Brodie exclaims, clapping his hands together, and pushing up from the golden sand. I watch his eyes trail over to the crashing waves in front of us, accompanied by the backdrop of a violet, orange, and pink sunset. He picks up his surfboard, swinging it into the crook of his arm and letting his feet start to carry him towards the water.

"And where do you think you're going?" I stand up, popping out my hip and once more crossing my arms against my chest.

Brodie halts, putting the surfboard down and throwing his arms up in question, "What? You said my board was good. Now we surf."

"Oh, you are sorely mistaken if you think we're getting in that water today," I laugh, tossing my long, wavy locks over my shoulder. "You're getting quite ahead of yourself, Maverick."

Brodie's foot stomps in the sand, a pouty look crossing his face. "Lelani, you're joking?! You're telling me we can't even go for a swim? It's fucking scorching out here. My Michigan blood isn't used to this hot shit."

"Well, it looks like it better get used to it. Are you paying me for surf lessons or swimming lessons, Brodie?"

His fingers run through his dark hair in a frustrated manner. "Oh come on," he groans, "Just a quick dip."

"Four weeks, Brodie," I carefully remind him, "That's what I've promised you. If you want to learn how to mount that surfboard and catch a wave, then I suggest you start using this time of ours' wisely."

His feet stomp and protest once more in the sand before he finally begins carrying himself and his surfboard back to me. "Fine then, Lani." The nickname takes me by surprise, and I give him a reprimanding look, even though deep down I'm loving the sound of it coming from his lips. "What's next then?"

I giggle, getting a kick out of Brodie's grumbling. I take the surfboard out of his hands, carefully placing it flat onto the ground and ensuring that the fins are dug securely into the warm sand. Brodie's eyes watch my movements carefully, flicking back from me and the surfboard. His head tilts in confusion as to what he's supposed to do now, and I finally clarify, "Back on your knees, Maverick."

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I begin the next instruction by teaching Bordie the importance of establishing a balance spot. "This," I explain, drawing a thick line of white wax across the middle of the deck, "is the center of your board. You want to make sure that anytime you are lying down, your chest is lined up evenly with this. Balance is crucial here."

"Right," Brodie nods, soaking in and retaining the information.

"Now, come here," I say, patting the deck. Brodie lays his body down on top of its surface, lining his chest right up against the center-line as I instructed. With the bar of wax still in my hand, I coordinate the position of his nose to the surfboard, drawing another dash of white just underneath of him. "This is your eye line. You always want to make sure that if you were to look down, your nose," I say, tapping his," meets up with this."

"What does it mean if it's not?"

"Means your body isn't center and level on the board, so in layman's terms, it means wipeout. The next thing you're going to want to master is a good pop-up technique." I move over to my own board now, laying against it and feeling the coolness of it hit my skin. Brodie's eyes are all on me, so I continue with my next instruction. "What you want to do is push your sternum up off the board." With my hands placed just below my breasts, I lift my chest off of the deck. "Pull your body and legs forward," I say as my legs begin to shift underneath of me, "and slide your knees through." In one swift motion, I slide both of my knees through the space between my arms, twisting my hips before planting firmly onto the bottom of my feet. My knees bend as my arms stretch out, stabilizing my body, and maintaining my balance. "You think you can pull it off?"

His jaw drops in awe at my precise movements, "Can you show me one more time?" He asks, stress becoming clear across his face.

I can't help but chuckle, "One more time. Then I want to see you try it." Once more, I repeat the steps, accompanying them with the quick maneuver. I step over to the side of Brodie's surfboard, "Alright, Jarhead. Let's see it."

"Yep," he mumbles out apprehensively. "Push up," he repeats the steps out loud, pulling his bare chest up off of the board, "Slide body through," but as he begins to bring his legs forward, he forgets to twist his hips, and his knees jam right into his stomach. Brodie falls off of his board and right into the sand next to my feet, clutching his abdomen in pain. "Shit," he hisses out, discomfort evident in his shaky voice.

I jerk my head away quickly, struggling to keep my composure as fits of giggles start to leave me. "I did all the steps you told me," Brodie groans.

"You forgot to twist those hips, Maverick," and now I'm basically struggling to breathe as laughter leaves me.

"Oh, is this funny to you?" Brodie asks from the ground, now chuckling himself.

"It's fucking hilarious!" I taunt him, but he doesn't take my teasing lightly. Brodie's hand grips around my ankle, yanking and pulling my body down playfully with him. Sand kicks up all around us, covering my back and sides with a grainy texture. "Brodie!" I reprimand him, chucking a handful of it back to him. All his teeth are showing as his smile beams over to me, his brown eyes squinting in delight at our little game. I feel my own face glowing with glee until I remember the promise I made to myself and my Dad a year ago.

Not another Marine, Lelani.

My smile fades, and my laughter reduces to soft breaths. "Lelani?" Brodie asks, sensing the obvious change of tone in our current interaction. His hand reaches over, tapping against my arm and bringing my awareness back to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I spit out, pulling my eyes away from him and standing myself up. "Let's practice your pop up some more. We've obviously got our work cut out for us."

But now Brodie's mind is completely pulled away from our lessons, and instead focused on my unexpected disposition. "Did I do something to upset you?"

"No, Brodie." The words spew from my mouth, frustration clear in my voice. "You're paying me for surfing lessons, not playtime. Let's just stick to them, okay?"

"Fine," he grits out between his teeth, cutting his eyes over to me and then pulling them away. Without another word Brodie hoists himself up off the ground, not returning another glance my way as he climbs back onto his surfboard and begins practicing the movements once more.

"Your hands are too far forward," I say, correcting his stance, and feeling my mind start to drift away again.

"Lelani, I don't ever want to see you messing around with one of those Marine boys again. Do you understand me?" My father's angry and hurt voice echoes through my mind.

I sob, tears running down and soaking my cheeks, "I'm sorry, daddy. I promise it won't happen again."

"It better not, Lelani. It better not."

My daydreaming ceases, as I force my attention back onto Brodie. I watch carefully as he executes his pop-up technique perfectly, landing his feet onto the board with exemplary balance. I'm impressed that he managed to learn the move so quickly, and excitement takes over. "Holy shit! You just nailed that, Maverick."

Brodie's head jerks back towards me, his handsome smile returning to his face, as his eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "You're damn right I did," he says enthusiastically.

Daddy, I'm not so good at keeping promises.

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