His fingers tighten briefly around mine just as my phone buzzes. I glance down.
KIARA: can you grab drinks?? stand by the volleyball nets is still open
“Kiara’s asking if we can grab drinks.”
He nods easily. “Yeah, sure.”
We angle toward the drink stand closer to the water, where a short line has already formed—three, maybe four people ahead of us. The setup is a wooden counter half sunk into the sand, a chalkboard menu with half the letters smudged, and coolers stacked behind it.
Ryan and I step into line, still shoulder to shoulder. I loop my free hand through his arm, because I’ve seen couples do that. Hissleeve is warm from the sun. And solid. Very solid actually. Since when are his arms this—
Whatever.
“Alright, this is it,” I mutter under my breath as the line inches forward. I lean closer. “Okay, act like you just said something funny.”
He blinks down at me. “What?”
Before he can stop me, I let out a laugh. Loud. The kind of laugh that turns heads.
“Whatare you doing?” Ryan mutters. “You sound like a parrot with a bad cough.”
“Play along,” I hiss. “Be cool.”
“I don’t know what I’m playing along to.”
“Just say something.”
He opens his mouth, clearly blanking for half a second, then goes, flatly: “Yeah. That was hilarious.”
I wince, rubbing my free hand over my face. “Oh my God.”
“You told me to act normal.”
“That was not normal.”
He huffs under his breath and I jab him lightly with my elbow. “Put your arm around me or something.”
His brows lift. “Bossy tonight, eh?”
But he does it anyway, his arm slides around my shoulders in one easy motion. From the outside it probably looks convincing. But from up close not so much. I immediately lean in and whisper, “Why are you holding me like that?”
“Couples in lines do weird shit.”
“No, they don’t,” I mutter.
He exhales through his nose and adjusts, loosening his hold, which is already a lot better.
The line moves forward so the woman behind the counter looks up, and then does a very visible double take. Up close, I recognize her. It’s Mrs. Keller. She owns a cute clothing store onMain Street, with overpriced items. Her eyes bounce between us and go a little wide.
“Oh—Ryan,” she says, surprise slipping into her voice. “Hi.”
Ryan straightens a bit. “Hello, Mrs. Keller.”
She presses a hand lightly to her chest. “Well. This answers a few questions.” She takes a little pause, then lands her gaze on Ryan. “I’m so sorry about that thing with my cousin’s daughter last week,” she adds quickly. “I didn’t realize you were already spoken for.”
Ryan’s grip on my arm tightens for half a second and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“It’s all good,” he says easily. “No harm done.”
