“Liar.”
The word slips out softly, almost a caress, and settles between us like a challenge. I don’t deny it. I can’t. Instead, I push off the sand and lower myself onto the lounger beside hers, so close our arms nearly brush. The heat of her skin radiates against mine, pulling at every inch of me.
She doesn’t move away. If anything, she shifts a fraction closer. Her fingers graze the cushion’s edge near my thigh, and the slight movement sends a low current through my body.
We fall silent. The ocean breathes in the background, slow and rhythmic. I’m also acutely aware of the warm hush of her breathing beside me.
“You ever think about what you’d do if you only had a year left?” she asks, her voice low and her gaze on the stars above.
I turn my head toward her. “Where’d that come from?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I was reading, and it made me think. So… what would you do?”
“Honestly?” I say quietly. “I’d push my company even harder than I already do. Take it from where it is now and turn itinto something that redefines the industry. After that… I don’t know. Maybe step back just enough to watch it run without me micromanaging everything. Then travel. My parents always dreamed of visiting Iceland, so maybe I’ll start there.”
This vacation is the first time since I started Reyes Tech that I’ve taken off more than two weeks at a time. The thought feels heavier out here under the open sky. I was planning to only come for three days—the day before the wedding, the wedding itself, then fly home the next morning. That was it.
But after months of Ethan emphasizing the importance of taking time off so I don’t burn out and explaining that the company would suffer more if I never learned to step away and take time for myself, I finally agreed to these two weeks… even if I’m still sneaking in quick emails and checking dashboards every morning. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Sienna sits up suddenly and turns to face me. “Shit,” she breathes. “I completely forgot. You own Reyes Tech, right?”
I nod, eyes still on the sky. “Yeah. You know about it?”
I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. Of course, she knows. Ethan’s her future brother-in-law, and I’m his best friend. Reyes Tech has probably come up in their conversations more than once.
“Know about it?” she says with a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Everyone in New York knows about Reyes Tech, especially after that merger announcement last month. I work one block away—at Preston Elite. The building with the ridiculous fountain out front.”
I turn my head to face her. “You live in New York? I thought you were in Miami—at least, that’s what I remember Aria mentioning once?”
She pulls her knees up and rests her chin on them. “I was. I’m allergic to putting down roots, or at least I used to be. But NewYork… It’s different. It’s loud and exhausting, and somehow it feels like the first place that ever matched my pace.”
I watch her for a moment, considering her words. The breeze moves softly between us.
“I can see that,” I say at last. “New York has a way of attracting people who think fast. It doesn’t apologize for the pressure. It just expects you to keep up.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “And you? Does it match your pace too?”
I nod once. “It does. I’ve built my entire life around that rhythm. The city rarely feels too fast for me—if anything, it’s the only place that doesn’t feel slow.”
It’s silent for a beat, then she leans in close, her expression softening as the moonlight catches her eyes, turning them silver.
“If I only had a year left, I’d open a tiny bookstore on a beach somewhere,” she smiles, looking out at the horizon. “Sell coffee during the day and serve fun cocktails in the evening. I’d travel whenever I feel like it and never own anything I couldn’t fit in one suitcase.”
I smile despite myself. “That tracks.”
“I want to go to Iceland too, to see the Northern lights,” she says with a soft smile. “And climb a mountain just to scream at the top of my lungs because I can. And maybe… find one place that feels like home enough to return to.”
I watch her side profile in the moonlight—the soft curve of her cheek, the faint shimmer on her lashes, the way her lips part with a quiet breath.
“Do you think you’ll ever stop moving long enough to find that place?” I ask, my voice lower than I meant.
She doesn’t answer right away. Her chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm that pulls at something in mine. I see her throat work as she swallows.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, so softly that the wind almost carries it away. “Sometimes I think that if I stop, I’ll just… vanish. Like, staying still would make me fade, and motion is the only thing keeping me solid, you know?”
The raw honesty lands like a weight in my chest. In three days, I’ve seen her wild energy, but hearing the fear beneath it feels like being handed something delicate and fragile.
“Maybe the right person doesn’t ask you to stop,” I murmur. “Maybe they just… come with you.”
