I spend a few moments busying myself with getting the beach blanket just right before plopping down to watch the sky change colors. I can’t believe I’ve missed this for so many years, among other things. Something about the sunrise has always settled me. When I was seven, it felt like the most magical thing to be able to sneak out of my new house, filled with my new family, and safely watch the sunrise all by my lonesome. Never had I imagined such freedoms. And when both of my dads found out, they didn’t scold me, or lecture me, no biting words, they just hid a beach blanket in the garage and told me to always take a snack with me, and to return right after sunrise.
Who would’ve known such a simple thing all those years ago would heal a broken little boy’s heart.
The sun lightens the sky to bright pink and purple, and the cloud shelf slowly disappears. Seagulls caw overhead and I tip my head back, shaking my loose blond curls out that I didn’t even bother to brush when I woke up this morning. Anthony only ever had nice things to say about my hair, at least once I’d stopped dyeing it vivid colors. I don’t want to think about him right now. I’m sick of thinking about him.
I dig my toes into the wet sand and breathe being home in. No matter how awfully Anthony treated me, no matter all the cruel things he said in the heat of the moment and promptly took back when it was time to make up, I always knew I could return home.
When I glance to my left, I notice a jogging figure approaching in the distance. In all my years, it’s so rare to see someone else on the shore for sunrise. Sure, people live along the coast of the island, but most people don’t wake forsunrise, as they’ve seen it a million times. I squint into the distance, but I can’t make much out about them. Only when they’re within yards of me do I notice the long dark-brown hair, the bearded jaw, sweaty, shirtless abdomen, and too tight jogging shorts that should be obscene that barely cover his very thick, hairy thighs. Oh hell. Since when did home start making men likethis, and since when do I run into them in my raggedy jean cutoffs that have seen much better days?
I don’t think I even brushed my teeth.
It doesn’t matter. Surely he’ll keep on jogging, right past me, without a single look my way.
Nope, he’s slowing down.
Right in front of me.
God, I didn’t put deodorant on either.
Maybe moving home wasnotmy best idea.
Wait. That’s fucking Charles Augustin, famous Super Bowl–winning quarterback. What ishedoing on my beach at sunrise?
He comes to a slow stop right in front of me, dark green eyes light and curious. With a tilt of his head, he takes me apart in one single look. Suddenly, I feel like maybe I’m not supposed to be here. I glance back to confirm I am, in fact, on my parents’ private beach, mile marker thirty-five. That’s us and has been since I joined this small family on this lonely little island off the coast of South Carolina.
“This is a private beach,” Jogging Hottie says with a mild glare.
“Yes.”
“So, tourists aren’t allowed.”
“Tourist?” I squeak. Do I seriously look like a tourist? Wow, my parents are going to get a kick out of this one. “I’m not a tourist.”
He wipes his forearm over his sweaty forehead, revealing a patch of hair under his arm that’salwaysbeen my weakness. Oh hell. He’s definitely straight. Not that it matters, considering I just went through a breakup. But objectively, he’s gorgeous, and I wish I looked like I hadn’t just flown thousands of miles while sobbing hysterically on the plane.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” Charles points out, breathing slowly as his jog is no doubt ruined by my presence.
I point to the cottage just over the dunes. “My dads live there.”
His bushy eyebrows furrow. “Your dads?”
“Yes…” I purse my lips as I stare up at this very attractive interrogator. “Mark and Brent.”
“No shit,” Charles says with what sounds a lot like delighted surprise. “You’re Tucker?”
Oh no.
Oh no.
“Yes?” Why do I sound so squeaky?
“Hmmm okay. Well, I won’t call the cops now that I know you aren’t trespassing. I guess I’ll see you in town.”
He moves to take off at a jog just as the sun starts to break over the horizon. He can’t do that. He can’t miss the sunrise.
“Wait!”
The man turns back with one raised eyebrow but stays quiet.
