I lift one shoulder, struggling to think about anything but the feel of our palms pressed together. Who knew such a tiny part of my body could make me feel so much? “I thought maybe your parents could use a different perspective. Hear whatother people think about you.” I give his hand a light squeeze. “Because you’re pretty great. I’m sure they know that, even if they don’t say it.”
“They definitely don’t say it,” he says. He gives my hand a gentle tug to pull me closer, and our arms press together. “But it means a lot coming from you.”
I think of how proud my parents have been about all my accomplishments, even the mediocre ones, and I hate that Myles doesn’t have that. “Well, anytime you need a reminder, I’m here.”
His grip tightens, and he smiles.
I’m not sure where Matt disappeared to, but Myles and I walk along the surf toward the rocks. I tell him all the beaches I want to visit before I die, and he tells me everything he wants to do in California during his upcoming vacation. We approach the rocks, which are bigger than I thought from a distance. One of them has to be at least seven or eight feet tall.
“Think anything’s behind that?” Myles asks.
“Don’t know.” The words are barely out of my mouth when I’m being tugged around it. I shoot Myles a confused sort of grin at his sudden desire to explore. “What were you expecting to find?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says, stepping closer. His gaze darts between my eyes and my mouth, and my stomach drops into a free fall. “I just wanted to be able to do this.”
He lifts his free hand and touches my face. His fingertips are gentle as they slide across my jaw, and that point of contact becomes my sole point of focus. My eyes drift closed on their own,like it’s a natural human reaction to another person’s lips erasing the space between theirs and yours.
In the split second before he kisses me, I internally panic about my breath situation. On the boat I drank his mom’s lemonade, which was fresh and sweet, and I think I’m okay with tasting like that.
Oh my God, Myles Ford is about to taste my mouth.
And then it’s happening, soft and tentative. A few errant thoughts try to barge in on the moment: that I’m too stiff and awkward or that my lips are too dry. But Myles doesn’t seem to mind—on the contrary, now his body is pressed against me and his other hand is on my bare waist—so I let my body guide me and wrap my arms around his broad, warm shoulders. After a long moment he lifts his head.
“Amelia?”
“Yeah?” It comes out all breathy.
“I like you.”
I can’t help it—I laugh. “I uh… I sort of got that.”
His grin is adorable, his eyes dazzling and happy. “Well… good. I just… After what you said earlier, I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
Emboldened by his sweet earnestness, I rub my thumb across the back of his neck. “I like you too.”
His lips cover mine again, firmer this time, and I’m not sure how long we stay like this, kissing and sighing, with fingers traveling across exposed skin and into each other’s hair. But at some point, minutes, hours, days after he first tuckedme away behind this rock, a sharp whistle forces us apart.
Myles twists his head around, and I peek over to find Matt a few feet away, grinning like an idiot. He gives us a slow clap. Heat rushes to my face, but Myles just sighs and mutters, “Go away.”
Matt lets out a guffaw and starts walking away. “All right, lovebirds. You’ve got five more minutes. Then it’s time to go.”
Myles seems different after we swim back to the boat, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He’s more relaxed, flirty, and drapes his arm over my shoulders as we motor to the next swimming spot. Later, on the way back to the marina, Matt tries to goad him by sitting so close to me that not a single molecule of air could pass between our thighs, but Myles just rolls his eyes and tugs at Matt’s leg hair until he moves.
Myles quickly takes his place.
In the car Myles takes my hand and rests our forearms on the center console, and I don’t stop smiling for the entire drive. When he pulls to a stop in front of my house around four in the afternoon, he puts the car in park and turns to me.
“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” I ask. I figure I’ll ride a unicorn or sprout wings and fly, to cap off the absolute dream this day has been.
He makes a face. “Laundry and packing. Our flight to California’s pretty early in the morning.”
“You’re gonna have the best time.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he says. “I’m really glad you came today.”
“Me too.”
“Would have been better if Matt wasn’t there. Or my parents, actually.”
