My bare feet slap against the warm, packed sand as I head straight for the water. The ocean is impossibly blue—clear and endless—just like Noah’s eyes. And, apparently, the exact color of that tiny swimsuit I can’t seem to erase from my mind.
Which is so ridiculous. Noah means nothing to me. Just a harmless fantasy. That’s all. Everyone has fantasies, right?
Wrong.
Something tells me there’s more to this attraction than just a fantasy.
I drag in a breath. Salty air burns my lungs, sharp and cleansing, but my thoughts won’t still. They keep circling back—to the screen, to the wink, to Gabriel’s smug, infuriating grin.
Behind me, Elijah catches up and slips his arms around my waist. His chest presses to my back, solid and steady, and his plush lips tickle my ear with the softest hum. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, even as my emotions churn.
He doesn’t say a word. Just holds me. Lets me breathe. Lets the ocean speak instead.
“I thought I saw Gabriel at the airport,” I finally admit, my voice low, edged with something like embarrassment. “When I landed.”
“Mmm…” he hums, rich and warm. “Wasn’t him.”
“Obviously,” I mutter, staring out at the waves.
Elijah’s hum seems more Spanish-laced here, like the island has thickened his accent along with the air. Everything feels heavier. Slower. More exposed.
“You think I’m crazy, right?” I ask, just above the breeze. Exhaustion pulses through me. I lean into him fully, letting the hard lines of his body take some of my weight.
His silence is almost an answer.
But not quite.
A gentle wave laps over our feet, cool and soft, burying our toes in the wet sand. The tide sucks back out, dragging the shore with it, and I dig in deeper, letting the earth shift beneath me like it’s trying to ground something in me I can’t name.
“Can I ask you something?” Elijah murmurs, his voice low against my ear. His nose brushes the skin just behind it, and then he kisses my cheek—light, unhurried.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Sure.
“Do you want him?”
The question cuts through the moment, clean, unexpected.
I keep my gaze on the water. Another wave rolls in, swirling foam around our ankles as if the ocean is trying to listen too. “God, no,” I say, almost laughing at the absurdity. “I don’t want Gabriel.”
I turn in his arms, fitting my body against his. Our mouths so close that we’re already sharing breaths. The faint taste of bourbon still clings to his lips—warm and familiar—and I kiss him like the question didn’t rattle me.
“Don’t ever ask me that again,” I whisper. “The answer will always be no.”
“Good,” he says, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. His fingers drift lazily through my hair. “Because I wasn’t talking about Gabriel.”
My breath catches.
My eyes go wide.
“Noah.” I breathe out his name, so quiet it’s almost nothing, the wind stealing it the moment it leaves my mouth.
22
NOAH
“I can’t believeI let you talk me into this,” I whine, as Gabriel takes my hand that’s flapping by my side.
He snickers, that gorgeous smile lighting up his whole face. “Trust me. It’ll be fun. Just wait until Ana and Emilee see you. They’re going to be so excited I brought you as my date.”
