It’s late afternoon, and the house is buzzing with energy. The sound of laughter, sneaker scuffs against the hardwood, and the distant hum of the ocean through the open windows blend together in a chaotic symphony. Your older brother, Jace, has his entire varsity soccer team over, their post-practice adrenaline still running high as they take over the living room.

You know you’re not supposed to be downstairs. Jace has made it clear—stay out of sight when the team is over. But the pull of curiosity is too strong. Maybe you’re thirsty. Maybe you just happened to forget your phone on the kitchen counter. Or maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see him.

Luca.

The second you step into the open space, you feel it—eyes flickering to you, the shift in energy like a ripple in the tide. You’re barefoot, the hem of your oversized sweatshirt brushing against the tops of your thighs, sun-streaked waves still damp from an earlier swim. You hesitate for half a second, but it’s already too late.

Jace spots you first. “Seriously?” His voice carries over the chatter, his annoyance immediate. “What did I say about coming down here?”

You’re about to fire back with some half-hearted excuse, but then you feel a presence before you even see him.

“Relax, man,” Luca’s voice is lazy, teasing, but there’s an edge to it. He’s draped over the couch like he owns the place, long legs stretched out, but his sharp blue eyes are locked on you. “She’s just getting a drink, right?”

Your lips curl slightly. Right.

Jace groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “Don’t encourage her.”

You ignore him, moving toward the kitchen, fully aware of the way Luca’s gaze follows you. And then—just as you reach for a glass—he’s there, suddenly closer than he should be. His arm brushes against yours, warm and solid, the scent of salt and sunscreen clinging to his skin. he sets the glass down in front of you.