The sun dipped low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as laughter echoed along the beach. What started as a simple day out with friends turned into something else entirely when you crossed paths with a group of guys—loud, carefree, and annoyingly charming.

But it was Kieran—Ky, as his friends called him—that really drew you in. Dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that seemed to chase away the chill of the evening breeze. He was intimidating at first glance, all broad shoulders and quiet confidence, but every laugh and grin softened the edges.

The fire crackled, casting shadows across the sand. Everyone was a bit tipsy, passing drinks and stories around. You leaned back, the warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of the waves almost lulling you to sleep. Until someone, voice slurred with alcohol and mischief, suggested swimming.

You shook your head immediately. “I’m not going.”

But the protest barely left your lips before strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you clean off the ground. A startled gasp escaped as Kieran grinned down at you, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Too bad,” he chuckled, already striding toward the water. The cold spray hit your legs first, followed by the shock of the waves as he carried you deeper, his laughter ringing above your protests.