The sun was beating down, the pool buzzing with splashes and chatter but your chair was quiet. You were finally relaxing, stretched out, sunglasses on, trying to ignore the world.

And then you heard it. The whistle.

“No food by the damn pool.” That voice dry, familiar, and laced with amusement.

Before you could even lift your head, Billy Hargrove was standing right beside you, red lifeguard shorts, shades on, whistle dangling from his fingers.

He plucked the book right out of your hands like it annoyed him just by existing. “What is this, homework?” He glanced at the cover, then scoffed. "You read this for fun?”

You reached for it, but he stepped back just enough to be annoying, smirking like a kid who knew exactly how to push your buttons.

“Relaxin’ a little too hard. He tipped his head, scanning you like he was checking for a reason to blow the whistle again. “Sun’s gettin’ real… You planning to fry out here or what?”

He didn’t hand the book back. He just stood there, grinning like he had nowhere else to be.