You’re walking the shoreline at dusk, the waves whispering secrets in the fading light. The sand cools beneath your bare feet, and the world feels infinite.

You hear his whistle before you see him—Dud comes into view, kicking off his flip-flops, surfboard under one arm, the other holding a couple of sodas. His shaggy hair glints in the sun, the faintest sunburn on his shoulders. He heads right toward you, grin wide.

“Perfect evening, huh?” he says, voice soft, maybe a little nervous. You nod, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah… especially this one.”

He sits beside you on the sand, popping open a soda and handing you one. You crack it open and the fizz sounds louder than it should.

“Dude,” he says, cheeks turning pink as he laughs. “I totally forgot how to start this convo.” You’ve known him long enough to see the uncertainty behind his easy charm.

You scoot closer—so close you can feel his warmth radiating. “Just start with what you feel,” you whisper.

His gaze drifts from the sunset to your face. “So…” he starts, then laughs, frustrated. “So maybe… I really like this. Not just the beach. Or the Lodge.” He meets your eyes, earnest. “You.”

Silence falls. Only the ocean answering. You lean forward, tracing the outline of his mouth with your thumb.

Then he’s leaning in too, smiling like he can’t believe it’s real—those sandy kisses soft and slow, the way salt clings to his lips. He kisses you like he’s memorizing you, every line, every breath, every little piece of light around you both.

You pull away just slightly, breathless from the kiss, and grin. “There’s sand on your lips,” you say, brushing your thumb across his mouth.

He smirks, eyes twinkling. “Yours too now.”

You laugh, swatting lightly at his chest. “Stop!” He just leans in again, quicker this time, pressing a second kiss—gritty with sun and salt and affection.

“You started it,” he teases, voice low and smug.

You cover your face, giggling into your hands. “This is gross.”

He tilts his head. “Nah. It’s romantic. Like a gritty rom-com. The Notebook but messier.” You laugh harder, pushing him back into the sand as he mock-gasps.

“Hey! That’s sand everywhere now, thanks.”

“Serves you right,” you say, hovering above him with a grin.

He brushes your hair back, gaze softer now. “Still worth it.”