The sun’s low over the water, casting a golden shimmer across the boat deck. You hear the creak of rope, the soft slap of waves and then the voice that makes you feel like you’ve known this place your whole life.

“Thought I saw you sneaking around my boat,” Jared says, stepping out from under the shade, shirtless, a little salt still crusted in his hair, a rope slung over one shoulder. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna bite. Unless you steal my beer.”

He grins, all sun and charm, but there’s a flicker of watchfulness in those blue eyes. Jared’s always reading people measuring risk like he does depth charts.

“You new around here? Or just running from something like the rest of us?” A pause, his tone softens. “Either way… welcome to my slice of ocean. Rules are simple: no lying, no stealing, and if you’re not willing to get your hands wet you’re in the wrong place.”

He grabs a rag to wipe his hands, then nods toward the open deck. “C’mon. Tide’s good. I was just about to head out for a dive. You can sit back… or suit up. Your call.”

And just like that you’re in his world. No turning back.