A beach volleyball game is being played a short distance from us. It’s the entire wedding party, plus my mom, Ben, and Grandma. My dad has been silent since dinner, and is absent from today’s beach fun. At what point is he planning on joining us? Normally I would care more about his absence, or feel responsible for including him.
Klein has been the best distraction.
My mom yells over, asking if Klein and I want to join the match. Klein tells her we’ll get the next one.
I crook one eye open. Klein is on his back, shades covering his eyes, a book held aloft. It’s a murder mystery, something taken from my grandmother’s collection. He sees me looking and sets down the book. Rolling onto his side, he presses a light touch to my lower back.
Wearing a look I can only describe as adoration, he says, “There are freckles emerging on your cheeks.”
“From the sun.” I point needlessly at the giant lantern in the sky.
He nods, his gaze roaming over me. His hand explores my back, bumping over the ties of my bikini top. He begins using a fingertip, looping and swirling, crossing and dotting.
“What are you doing?” I ask, propping the side of my head on stacked hands.
“Plotting a story.”
I smile lazily. “What kind of story?”
“A love story.” He writes something on my back, something I can’t decipher.
“The book you’re reading isn’t giving you murder mystery inspiration?”
He makes a show of eyeing Shane. “Maybe.”
“Hah.” Even my laugh is slow, molasses pouring from a jar. It’s the sun. I don’t have a fast speed under its rays. “What’s giving you inspiration for this love story?”
He surveys the beach. “The island vibes.” Eyes on me. “And a certain woman.”
“My grandma? Is it a love triangle with Bob Barker?”
Klein’s plotting halts. “You got it. I travel back in time and face off with him to win a young Lausanne’s affections.”
“You’re the obvious choice.” I roll over and prop myself on an elbow. My fingers trace his chest, his pecs, pausing over his heart. “I’d choose you.”
He kisses my shoulder, lingers, nibbling at the warm skin. “Are you catching feelings for me, Ace?”
My heart beats double time. “Do you want me to?”
He pulls back, leveling me with a tender look. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”
I’m hit unexpectedly with emotion. Klein’s question, the sun and the sand, the island paradise, it feels the closest to perfection I’ve ever been.
I want to lie here in this moment forever, soaking up the sun and this man who has knocked me off my axis for a second time in my life.
I prepare to pull Klein in, ready to embark on a partially indecent beach make-out session, but I’m stymied by a shadow looming over us. I tent my hand to see who it belongs to.
Sienna, wearing a white bikini (naturally), looks down at us. “Klein, I need a break from volleyball. Can you sub in, please?”
Klein drops a reluctant kiss beside my ear before standing. “Sure. No problem.” He walks off through the hot sand, and I watch him go. His calves are filled out, shapely, a result of those weekly soccer matches. The lash mark of his jellyfish sting is still red, but a fraction less angry.
Sienna lays out beside me on Klein’s towel. She tips her face to the sun. “You two seem to be getting along well.”
I watch Klein take his place on Shane’s team. “We are.”
“Shane is jealous of Klein.”
The despondence in her voice makes me roll over, bending my elbow and propping my head on my hand.
