Page 262 of Banter & Blushes

He swims over to his board, hauling himself back onto it with a dramatic groan. “You could’ve at least pretended to be concerned.”

“Concerned?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re in, like, five feet of water. The only thing I’m concerned about is how many fish heard that splash and are currently laughing at you.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but there’s amusement there, and I know he’s already plotting his revenge. Sure enough, he grabs his paddle and starts splashing water in my direction, sending a spray of droplets my way.

“Hey!” I yelp, holding up my hands to shield myself. “Cut it out!”

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “What was that about me being ‘Captain Confidence’?”

I paddle away quickly, laughing as he tries—and fails—to catch up. For a while, we chase each other across the water, our laughter echoing over the waves, and it feels so light, so easy, that I almost forget why I was hesitant to spend so much time with him in the first place.

Eventually, we make our way back to the shore, collapsing onto the sand beside Winston, who looks entirely unimpressed by our antics. I’m still dripping wet, my hair sticking to my face and my clothes clinging to me, but I can’t bring myself to care. Keigan flops down beside me, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.

“That was fun,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, like he’s speaking just for me.

“Yeah,” I admit, leaning back on my hands and tilting my face toward the sun. “It was.”

The ocean stretches out before us, vast and glittering. I shift and meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes both disarming and endearing. I reach out, intertwining my fingers with his.

“Consider this your invitation,” I say before I can stop myself.

“Invitation to what?” He says with a smirk.

I squeeze his hand, raising one eyebrow. “Don’t make me spell it out.”

“Oh no,” he says, scooting a fraction closer on the towel. “Please do. I’d like it notarized. Possibly engraved.”

My heart is trying to set a new land speed record, and I’m pretty sure he can hear it. Or maybe he just sees it in the way my eyes keep darting to his mouth and back. His thumb brushes over mine like he’s testing something, asking a question without words.

His voice dips. “You’re really giving me the green light here?”

I nod once. “Unless you’d rather go back to paddleboarding and pretending you didn’t fall in five times.”

“First of all, it was four. Second of all, you’re deflecting.”

“And you’re stalling,” I shoot back.

“Oh, I’m not stalling.” His free hand comes up slowly, like he’s moving through water. He tucks a windblown strand of hair behind my ear, and it’s the softest thing in the world. “I’m savoring.”

My breath catches—no, not catches. It stumbles and rolls right over itself. He leans in, not fast, not showy, just… sure. And when his lips finally meet mine, it’s not fireworks or a movie climax. It’s something quieter. A little off-center. Sun-warmed and salt-kissed and real.

My fingers tighten around his as the kiss lingers, unhurried, like we’ve got all the time in the world and neither of us wants to be the one to break it.

When we finally part, he doesn’t say anything right away. Just rests his forehead against mine and exhales, like maybe he was holding his breath too.

“So…” he says at last, voice low and pleased. “Should I start calling you my paddleboarding coach or my girlfriend?”

I snort, gently bumping my shoulder against his. “Let’s stick with coach for now.”

“For now,” he echoes, and the smile he gives me this time—it’s not the one from movie posters or magazine covers. It’s just for me.

And I feel like I could stay right here, fingers tangled, sun on my skin, and his laugh tucked in my pocket, forever.

CHAPTER 10

The next morning starts out slow and dreamy, the way mornings should in a sleepy beach town. I’m perched on the back steps of The Clever Lime, a warm mug of coffee cradled in my hands, while Winston sprawls out at my feet like a little loaf of bread. The sun is still low, soft golden light spilling over the dunes and creating long shadows across the sand. The air smells faintly of salt and warm wood, and the distant rhythm of the waves is the perfect background music to my quiet.

I wiggle my toes in the sand, sipping my coffee and letting my mind wander. It’s one of the rare moments when everything feels just right, like the world has paused for a breath. The bar is cleaned, Winston is freshly bathed and content, and there’s nothing pressing on my plate until later tonight. Simple. Peaceful. Quiet.

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