“I don’t know, I think they’re kind of majestic. Apex predators, perfect evolution, masters of their environment, all of that.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled, like she was still resisting a smile.
“You a fan or a marine biologist?”
“Just a guy who appreciates physical prowess. I’m basically half-shark myself.”
“That would explain the ego,” she muttered, but that smile was starting to sneak through.
“And the teeth.” I flashed her my best grin. “Want a closer look?”
“I want to know why you actually have a death wish, but you keep dodging.”
“Maybe I was hoping to run into a beautiful woman doing mysterious beach rituals.” I glanced at her hand. The cut had almost stopped bleeding. The shark in me was disappointed, and I looked back at her face deliberately. “Mission accomplished.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was color in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before.
“Does that line usually work for you?”
“I don’t know, is it working now?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You sure? Because you’re blushing.”
“There’s no way you could see that.”
She stood, brushing sand off her legs, and I tried to be subtle about watching.
Failed completely.
She noticed, too, because now she was the one smirking.
“Besides, I don’t flirt with tourists who are probably here for that stupid surf competition.”
“What if I’m not here for the competition?” Technically true. The competition was here for me. “What if I’m just a guy who likes midnight swims and tripping over beautiful women?”
“Then you’re still a tourist with a death wish and terrible pickup lines.”
“You haven’t heard my good ones yet.”
“Thank god for small miracles.”
But she was definitely smiling now, even as she started gathering her shells.
“You should really be more careful. The sharks around here, they’re different during migration, bolder—hungrier.”
Oh, you’re very right about that.
“I’ll take my chances.”
I watched her blow out the candle with a quick puff that made her lips purse in a way that was absolutely going to haunt me later.
“What’s your name?”
She looked at me for a long moment, deciding whether to answer.
“Selena…Torres. Like the moon goddess, but also like the singer.”
