“No,” I lie.
‘Just one more piece,’ I said half an hour ago, my cardigan’s pockets already full. That’s one piece of sea glass that, once found, will conclude our beach walk.
The truth is, I’m not ready to go. Not when it feels as though the sea itself is holding its breath around us.
This past week has felt like a return to myself.
Writing new songs has been like coming back to life, the beginning of a new chapter. And the hope that my guitar might be repaired…I didn’t realise how much that mattered until Brandon made the suggestion.
I’m grateful to him—more than I can say.
But what I feel now…what I’ve been feeling for a long time…runs far deeper than gratitude.
All I want is him, and it’s driving me absolutely out of my mind.
A flush of warmth rolls through me as I let myself glance at him quickly—only to find I cannot look away. The setting sun catches his face, bathing his features in gold, the angles dipped in shadow.
A gentle wave flows in, and my plastic-wrapped cast sinks a little deeper into the pebbles.
Brandon catches me staring. His gaze stills, holds, and something quiet and electric charges the air.
Water swirls around our ankles, my heartbeat skittering as the seconds stretch, his deep brown eyes turned molten gold in the dusk light, drawing me in.
For a wild second, the thought of moving closer flickers. I give him a shaky smile. “How many did you find?”
He opens his hands, palms empty. “None.”
“None? You…haven’t found a single one?” I stammer.
“No.” His voice is coarse, the quiet scrape sending a blaze of heat through me. “I’m not here for sea glass.”
“Oh? So…you’ve been humouring me?”
“Yes,” he says softly. “Though I’d rather callit indulging you.”
He carefully takes my hand, thumb caressing my knuckles. He stares at it for a moment before his gaze flicks up to mine. “I’m here foryou.”
Everything inside me drops as Brandon’s fingers tighten around mine.
“Lily…I can’t wait a minute longer.” He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching mine. There’s no teasing warmth left in it now, only something raw and intent, the last glimmer of light fading as night gathers around us. “You must know,” he says with a quiet rasp. “Surely you realise.”
My heart stutters. The world seems to narrow, the sea hushed, the air thick between us.
“I’ve fallen for you.” His jaw tightens, as if the admission costs him. “And I love you. Deeply.” A disbelieving breath escapes him—half-laugh, half relieved exhale. “Quite madly, in fact.” A tremor runs through him, his hand trembling in mine. “And I always will.”
Everything inside me goes still.
“I’m in love with you too,” I whisper. “I have been for a while.”
His eyes grow hooded, his other hand lifting to cup my cheek, fingers sliding into my hair, slow enough to give me time to stop him.
I don’t. My cheek tilts against his dry palm, warmth blooming in a heady rush beneath my skin.
“Was it the beige walls that swayed you?” he asks in a low voice, gaze drifting to my lips.
I huff a soft laugh. “Actually, I think it was the kazoo.”
“I knew it.”
