Page 60 of Every Heartbeat After

I can’t quite make out Kit’s expression in the moonlight, but his snort is translation enough. He’s knee-deep in powdery sand, scouring the surface for movement. I’m supervising, while sneaking peeks of his ass when the light hits it just right.

“Brutal way to find out that I am neither artistic nor sporty, apparently.” He must spot the little crab at the edge of the flashlight beam at the same time I do, because he dives for it, landing with a huff of breath in a spray of sand. “Damn, they’re fast.”

I cover my laughter with a swipe of my hand. “You just have to be faster than the crabs, Kit.”

“That’s what my sex ed teacher said, too.”

“And?” I ask with an arched brow, not that he can see it.

He rises to his feet and gets to work dusting sand off every surface from chest to shins. “And what?”

“Did it work?”

He pauses, and I swear I can feel his gaze like a brand the minute it lands on me. “Tess, are you asking if I have crabs?”

I snort. “Among other things. Gotta be careful, you know. Given what’s on my list.”

I can just make out the shape of his arms folding over his chest. “All clear on my front.”

“Same.” I try to sound casual, but excitement has both my blood pressure and my pitch spiking.

“Does this mean we can abandon crab hunting and get to work on other tasks?” he asks suggestively.

He takes a step forward, but I bring the flashlight up to his face in an instant, effectively blinding him. “Nuh-uh. We’re not leaving here till you catch a crab.”

He yanks the flashlight from my hands and turns it on me. I blink against the harsh light, my whole world shrinking to that single beam.

“You’ve caught, like, thirty-five.” He swings the beam to the bucket at my feet. “See? It’s so full that they can use each other to climb right out of there. What’s one more going to do?”

“Give you the satisfaction of a job well done,” I say matter-of-factly. “And get you into my pants.”

“Deal.” He turns and marches away with renewed vigor, sweeping the flashlight over the sand frantically as he searches for movement.

I can’t help but laugh as I tip over the bucket and free my cache. They scramble and scurry, tickling my feet in their misguided attempts to escape. Some are the size of my palm, while others are no bigger than the tip of my finger. They’re everywhere at night, making it even more baffling that Kit hasn’t managed to capture a single one. For all his measured intensity, when it comes to even this amateur version of hunting, he has no grace. He fumbles through the sand, crashing and stomping so loudly the crabs disappear before he’s even made it close.

After another failed attempt, he grumbles, “You make it look so easy!”

I shrug into the darkness, smiling even though he can’t see me. “Lots of practice. My dad guided us on at least one hunting session per summer. Sometimes two, if I was being restless. Though I think the second one was to let Mom grab an extra nap when I was driving her crazy.”

“You? Driving someone crazy? Impos— oof!”

We fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, me straddling him from behind and him landing full-frontal on the ground with a grunt. I nip his ear, tiny granules of sand coating my lips. “Take it back.”

“Did you justtackleme?” He huffs in disbelief. Then he rolls us, careful to disentangle himself so he doesn’t squish me in the scramble. In a flash, he has me pinned beneath him, and I’m breathlessly trying to figure out how he managed to turn the tables so easily. The flashlight casts us in stark relief, his left side blindingly clear while his right remains in shadow. “Say you’re sorry.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who should say sorry!” I squeal.

He shakes his head, and sand rains down from his hair to dust my face. “I was about to catch one when you pounced on me.”

“You called me crazy.”

“No,” he corrects, chest heaving with rapid breaths. “I said you drive people crazy. There’s a difference.”

“And the difference is…?”

“Crazy would be me scooping you up and dragging you into the ocean in the dark.”

My lips pop open, and his gaze drops to meet them. I narrow my eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

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