It was supposed to be simple.

The water was rough, sure—but nothing Brody hadn’t handled a hundred times before.

You stood beside him at the lifeguard tower, scanning the waves, the wind tugging at your shirt.

Then you heard it.

“Help!”

Brody’s head snapped toward the sound instantly.

Out past the break, a swimmer was struggling—arms flailing, waves pulling them under.

Brody was already moving. “Grab your board,” he said sharply. “We’re going.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You both hit the water at the same time, cutting through the waves, adrenaline rushing through your veins. The swimmer was panicking, thrashing wildly.

“Easy!” you called. “We’ve got you!”

You reached them first, managing to steady them against your board.

But then—

A wave slammed into you from the side.

You felt yourself twist awkwardly, your grip slipping. Pain shot through your shoulder as you hit the water hard.

“—Ah!”

The board slipped from your hands.

Brody saw it.

Everything in him snapped into focus.

“Hey—hey!” he shouted, swimming faster, reaching you just as another wave rolled over.

You surfaced, coughing, your shoulder burning, your arm barely responding.

“I—I’m okay,” you tried to say, but your voice shook.

Brody grabbed you instantly, one arm wrapping around your back, the other steadying the swimmer.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re not.”

His voice wasn’t angry.

It was scared.