Page 19 of Courting Danger

Chapter 6

Ocean

“That’s it, yeah, keep kicking,” Ocean encouraged as he bounced alongside Roan as he kicked, arms churning, slapping the water more than letting his hands glide through it, but they would work on that in a bit

Right now, Roan was doing the best he’d done all morning, making slow, steady progress through the water without letting his legs trail beneath the water’s surface, ultimately dragging him down and making it harder for him to keep his head above water.

When Roan began to flounder and thrash, Ocean slid his arms beneath him and kept Roan from sinking.

“Relax,” Ocean encouraged over the sound of his arms and legs kicking up water. “You’re okay, remember what I told you. Anytime you feel panicked or uncertain, all you have to do is put your feet down.”

“Feet down, feet down,” Roan chirped, breathless and a bit frantic.

Ocean eased his hands away, allowing Roan to stand up, water streaming down his face as he stood there panting.

“Look how far you made it,” Ocean said, turning him so he could see where they’d left their tank tops behind on the beach.

They were little more than a speck of color on the sand now.

“Whoa. I didn’t think I was getting anywhere,” Roan admitted, wiping the water from his face.

“You did awesome,” Ocean insisted. “And the more you practice, the easier it will get. I’m going to show you how to angle your hand when it enters the water so it will cut instead of slap, because slapping, just like dragging your feet, will slow you down. Here, let me see your hand.”

When Roan held his hand out, Ocean turned it palm down over the water.

“Slap the surface and keep pushing your hand deeper until it reaches your side,” Ocean said, recalling the lesson his father had taught him when he was young.

He turned away, avoiding the spray of water Roan’s hand sent up, and noticed his eyebrows knitting together as he forced his hand through the water.

“Kinda hard, isn’t it?” Ocean said.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, now let me see your hand again.”

This time, when Roan offered it, Ocean rotated it until his pinky was directly above the surface of the water.

“Now, put your hand back at your side,” Ocean instructed.

This time, there was only a tiny splash when his hand broke the surface of the water, and Ocean could see the understanding dawning in his eyes.

“When you’re swimming, you want to rotate your hands, so what my dad called the blade of it cuts through the water, but not a full rotate, otherwise you’d be chopping at the water. You want to angle and then pull your hand beneath your body. Moving thewater moves you, or so my dad explained. Not only does it make it easier, but you’ll also be conserving energy,” Ocean explained. “If something happens where you can’t get back to shore easily, you don’t want to flail around; you’ll just wind up exhausted. Sometimes it’s better not to swim, which is why we worked on floating this morning. Tight muscles sink.”

“And when I get nervous, my muscles tighten,” Roan said. “Just like when I slap the water, I slow myself down.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Ocean replied, pleased to see Roan smiling and bright-eyed, instead of flailing and panicked the way he’d been at the start of their lesson, when they’d first waded out into chest-deep water.

“People’s first reaction to fear is panic,” Ocean said, reminded of another of his old man’s lessons, “but panic will get you killed. When we panic, we breathe faster, our muscles burn through sugar and calories quicker, and we immediately start weakening ourselves.”

Roan nodded, staring past him to the vast, endless sea. “Doesn’t it scare you, just a little?”

“I respect that there are things in here that can kill me,” Ocean admitted, “and I know that even the best swimmer can drown in the wrong conditions. But I was born in the water, literally. My mother, her doula, my old man, and the doula’s attendants aided her into the ocean when she was ready to have me, and she gave birth to me in the waves. That’s why they named me after it and because they loved it so much. The rhythm of the waves is in my blood, but I can teach you to feel it too and understand when it’s safe and when it’s time to get the fuck out.”

“All I feel is the water trying to knock me off my feet,” Roan admitted.

“That’s it, that’s the rhythm,” Ocean explained. “Slow and lazy right now, all you have to do is plant your feet, bend your knees slightly, and rock with it. If you stand rigid like that...”

“It’s the same as if I tense up when I’m trying to swim,” Roan replied, his grin growing broader, even as the rigid set to his shoulders began to relax again.