Page 133 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“You good?” he asks, glancing back at me.

“Yeah,” I lie, forcing myself to follow him in.

The water is colder than I expected, stealing my breath as it hits my calves.

Mason slows so I can catch up, and when a wave breaks harder than the rest, he reaches for me without thinking—hand gripping my wrist, steady and firm.

“You’ve got it,” he says, like he’s not even aware he’s touching me.

I nod, swallowing.

I don’t know if it’s me being newly single or that maybe I’m just paying more attention to the guys around me, or if Mason has just been…morelately, but I’m so aware of everything he does now, especially when it comes to me.

I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. It’s like a switch flipped on in my brain that said it was okay to start noticing anyone else other than the only boy I’ve ever been with.

That kind of scares the shit out of me.

Out in the shallows, he positions the board and gestures for me to climb on. I hesitate again, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—my balance, my body, the way my heart is beating way too fast—scared I’m going to embarrass myself.

“Relax,” he says, softer now. “I’m right here.”

Mason stands behind me, hands on my waist, steadying the board. His thumbs rest against my bare skin where my rash guard rides up, and I can feel the heat of him even with the ocean between us. His chest is close enough that if I lean over even an inch, I’ll feel it.

“Bend your knees,” he says. “Looser.”

“Iamloose,” I argue, then immediately wobble.

He laughs. “You’re stiff as hell.”

“I’mscared!”

Then his voice drops lower. “Hey. Look at me.”

I turn my head slightly, just enough to see the focus in his eyes, the way his smile softens when he realizes I’m actually nervous.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just float here.”

Something about that, about the lack of pressure, the patience he has, helps my nerves.

“No, I wanna try.”

His hands shift, anchoring me. “Okay. Then trust the board.” Then he leans in just a little, his mouth closer to my ear. “Trustme.”

I do.

He helps me stand, and for a perfect second, I’m up.

I feel like I’m flying.

I glance back instinctively, searching for him, and he’s watching me from the water, eyes locked on mine.

Then I fall.

The ocean is cold but forgiving when I hit it. When I resurface, coughing a little and laughing, Mason’s already there, hands on my arms, pulling me up.

“Holy shit,” he says, grinning. “You did it.”

“I did,” I breathe out, wet curls plastered to my face, adrenaline still coursing through me.