God, he's cute.

I'm not usually into guys or whatever, but something about him... I don't know. It's messing with my head. It started almost a week ago, when I saw him for the first time. He was playing volleyball with some friends, sun catching in his hair, muscles tensing every time he jumped. I wasn't even paying attention to the game, just him. Then he spiked the ball—hard. And damn. He was hot.

I tried to brush it off. Just a passing thought. Just a guy who happens to be good-looking. But the image of him stuck with me longer than it should've.Then today, I finally worked up the nerve to talk to him. No big deal. Just casual. I told him he should watch me catch a wave. I figured if I could impress him, maybe he'd want to stick around. He agreed, and for a second, I felt on top of the world.

Mind you, I've never missed a wave or crashed out in my life. Everyone knows I'm the best surfer at Dragon Beach. It's kind of my thing. I ride waves like I was born in the water.

But then I paddled out, and suddenly, everything felt different.

At first, it was fine. The rhythm of the ocean, the familiar pulse beneath my board—I had it. But then I made the mistake of glancing toward the shore, just once.

And he was watching me.

Something in my chest tightened. My hands felt clumsy, my footing uncertain. My board wobbled beneath me, and before I could correct myself—

I was going down.

Not just a small wipeout. A brutal one.

The last thing I saw before I hit the water was the sheer embarrassment of the situation slamming into me harder than the wave itself. But what made it worse—so much worse—was what came next.

*BOOM.

The impact wasn't just with the water. It was with something—or someone.

It takes me a second to open my eyes, but when I do... shit. It's him.

I landed on him.

Fuck.

I scramble off as fast as I can, heart pounding, hands shaking. He's right there, blinking up at me, clearly caught off guard. I want to disappear. Sink straight to the ocean floor and let the tide take me wherever. Instead, I do the only thing I can—I hold out my hand to help him up. Not that he'll take it. I probably just ruined everything.

“I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened. Are you okay?”

He's probably hurt. Or worse—angry.

Or maybe... something else?

I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything.