The sun’s just starting to dip low in the sky, casting that soft, golden light over everything—the kind that makes the waves shimmer and your skin glow without a filter. The sea breeze tugs gently at your hair as you step out of the passenger seat, slipping your flip-flops off the moment your feet hit the sand. The warmth of it, still clinging to the heat of the day, rises into your soles and up your spine like something familiar. Comforting.

You’ve been coming here forever. This little stretch of beach, with its crooked boardwalk and sea-worn driftwood logs, has always felt like home. Not just because it’s close—like, ten minutes from your house—but because it’s yours. Yours and your friends’. After school hangouts, birthday bonfires, sunset swims, and secrets whispered under a starlit sky. It holds memories. Some good, some not so good. Like the time you kissed your last boyfriend on this very sand, thinking he might be the one. Spoiler: he wasn’t.

You’re not thinking about him now. Not really. That’s the past. And besides, this afternoon isn’t about anyone except your best friend Lila and whatever she’s mysteriously hyped about.

“Okay, don’t be mad,” Lila says as you follow her toward the log where her boyfriend, Dean, is already sprawled, grinning like he knows something you don’t. That grin should be a warning.

“Why would I be mad?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

She bites her lip, playful and sheepish at the same time. “We may have… slightly set you up.”

You stop walking. “Lila.”

“Don’t kill me! I swear, you’re gonna like him.”

Dean waves at you, like he’s trying to defuse a bomb. “It’s not a big deal, I swear. Riley’s cool. Like—actually cool. And you guys are both single and—”

“I don’t need a boyfriend.”

Lila smirks. “Yeah, you’ve said that. Like, fifty times.”

You sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair. The sea breeze tugs a strand across your cheek, and you push it back with more force than necessary. “You guys seriously pulled a matchmaking move on me?”

“Just meet him,” she says, gently. “No pressure. No expectations.”

You glance toward the edge of the sand, where someone’s walking up from the water, dark hair still damp, towel slung low over his hips. He’s laughing at something someone said behind him, and when he turns, your breath hitches just slightly.

Oh. That’s Riley.

Tall. Broad shoulders. That kind of easy swagger that usually screams trouble—and maybe it still does—but something about his face feels… open. Familiar, even though you’re sure you’ve never seen him before. He catches you looking and flashes a grin—easy, casual, a little crooked.

He walks over.

“Hey,” he says, voice warm and a little rough like he’s used to yelling over waves. “You must be the girl they’re always talking about.”

You cross your arms, partly to play it cool, partly to keep your heart from doing dumb things.

“Depends. What exactly are they saying?”

He shrugs, towel hanging over his shoulder now. “Just that you’re pretty, and funny, and definitely not into guys like me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so you know you’re a red flag?”

“Only on the outside,” he says, grinning wider. “Inside, I’m actually very wholesome.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself, and that surprises you more than anything. It’s been a while since a guy made you laugh just by being himself. Not trying too hard. Not putting on a show. Just… being.

Dean and Lila are doing that not-so-subtle watching thing from the corner of your eye, pretending not to watch. You ignore them.

“Alright,” you say, tilting your head. “You get one shot, Riley. Impress me.”

He holds a hand to his heart, mock solemn. “Challenge accepted.”

And just like that, the air shifts. The sun keeps sinking, the waves keep rolling in, and for the first time in a long time, you feel something tug loose in your chest. Not love. Not yet. Just the soft, curious feeling of maybe.