Page 3 of We Are Just Us

“Caught one of them digging under my side of the fence this morning,” the man replied smoothly. “Saw you unpacking your car yesterday. I live next door.” He jerked a thick thumb back toward the duplex. “I’m your new neighbor.”

“Oh. Shit! I’m sorry if they were loud. I promise they’re just getting used to the new space. They won’t be a problem, I swear.”

“They’re fine. One of them tried to flirt with me, but I’m a prude.”

Kieran laughed a little too loud and immediately regretted the volume. “That was probably Mabel. She has zero shame.”

The guy cracked a small, easy smile. “Figures.”

There was a beat of silence between them. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but suspended, hanging in the morning air.

Kieran noticed the salt still clinging to the man’s chest, his arms speckled with sunspots that made him look slightly older, maybe late thirties.

“I’m Kieran,” he said, realizing he’d been staring without introducing himself. “Kieran Doyle.”

“Rory,” the man replied, extending a broad hand. “Kline. You’re not from here, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Your flip-flops are too clean. And you made direct eye contact with three seagulls on your way down the stairs.”

Kieran snorted. “Okay, that’s a brutally honest take.”

Rory shrugged, his expression relaxed. “Only trying to keep you alive out here. The gulls are cutthroat.”

“I bet! Good thing I didn’t bring a footlong.” Kieran instantly choked on his own spit, his face flooding with mortified heat. “…A footlong sandwich.”

Oh. My. God. Drown me now.

Another pause stretched over them. Rory didn’t laugh, but a small spark lit up his eyes. He turned, his gaze drifting out toward the water, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Well. If you ever want to touch the ocean instead of staring at it from a safe distance, let me know.”

“Is that…an offer? Or a threat?”

“Depends on you.”

Kieran smiled, surprised by how fast his heart was suddenly beating. “Guess you’ll find out?”

Rory nodded once, then turned and walked back toward the tide line like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Kieran froze, stunned, still holding the protein bar in his hand. For once, the feeling in his chest wasn’t panic. He turned back up the beach path, trying his best not to grin like a complete idiot.

Behind him, the waves rolled in. He didn’t touch them.

Not yet.

TWO

When he got back to the duplex, his shirt clung to his back like regret. Both dogs were practically vibrating with the need to inspect their new territory, so he threw the back slider open and watched them storm into the yard.

He clicked the ceiling fan up to high and flopped onto the slightly faded couch that had come with the rental, Rory’s words still looping in his head.

“You’re not from here.” “Let me know.” “Depends on you.”

Was he imagining the vibe? Probably. Definitely. Rory was likely being neighborly in a rugged, emotionally unreadable, Encinitas kind of way. He probably made every single new transplant feel their flip-flops were too clean and their ocean phobias were perfectly valid.

Kieran groaned, letting his head drop back heavily against the cushions.

“I am not making this into a thing,” he told the spinning ceiling fan. “I’m not going to crush on the literal first guy who speaks to me. I’m thirty-four. I have two dogs. I own a collapsible wagon. I am evolved.”