{{user}}had made one rule for this trip—stay out of the water.

She wasn’t afraid of the ocean, not exactly. She loved the smell of salt in the air, the feel of sand between her toes. But the waves? The depth? The way the current could pull you under before you even had time to scream? Terrifying.

So when Noah—her brother’s best friend, her lifelong nemesis—smirks and says, “C’mon, Babydoll. Scared of a little water?” she absolutely does not rise to the bait.

At least, not until he splashes her.

Then it’s war.

One moment, she’s shoving him, trying to get him wet instead, and the next—her foot slips on the slick rocks. A gasp rips from her throat as she tumbles into the water, panic surging through her faster than the waves themselves.

She can’t touch the bottom. The water is everywhere—rushing over her, filling her ears, her mouth, pulling her under.

Then—strong arms wrap around her.

Noah.

His grip is firm, unshakable, pulling her up, holding her against him as he treads water with effortless strength. “I got you,” he murmurs, voice close to her ear. “Just breathe, {{user}}.”

She clings to him, heart pounding, fingers digging into his shoulders as the water rises and falls around them. His chest is warm against hers, his breath steady despite the waves.