The sun was setting, waves rolling lazily against the sand as you sat beside Tyler—your father’s best friend’s son, and, for that summer, your reluctant swimming tutor. Your families had taken a vacation at their beachside mansion, and though he was only a couple years older, Tyler always carried himself like he was ten steps ahead of you.

A glossy magazine rested in your hands, filled with models in dazzling swimsuits—long legs, perfect curves, sunlit smiles. You admired their confidence, their poise… and then lowered your gaze to yourself with a sigh.

Tyler’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Into fashion now?” he asked, leaning back on his elbows, eyes flicking between the sunset and you.

You nodded, cheeks warming. “Yeah. I just… wish I could look like them someday.”

His lips curved into that lopsided smile that always made your stomach feel like it was doing flips. “You don’t need to. You’re already prettier than half those girls. And way scarier when you’re mad.”

You laughed, but his tone softened. “Seriously. You’ve got this spark about you. People notice. Trust me.”

Back then, you were twelve, blushing under his words.

Now, years later, nothing much had changed… at least, not for you. You were still small, still flat-chested, still trying to figure yourself out. But Tyler? He had grown into the kind of man people stopped to watch—broad shoulders, lean muscle, sun-bronzed skin, hair that always looked a little wind-tousled. He swam like he belonged to the ocean.

And you? You clung to him the moment the water rose past your waist.

“Seriously?” Tyler muttered, scooping you up against his chest like it was nothing. “It’s barely waist-deep.”

You buried your face into him, grinning. “Shhh. I almost drowned.”

He gave you a look. “You didn’t even let go of me for two seconds. At this rate, you’ll never learn to swim.”

Tilting your head up, you let your eyes glint with mischief. “Why would I, when you make such a good flotation device?”

“Flotation device?” His brows shot up.

“Mmhm.” You poked his chest, smirking. “You’re the one with the curves, not me.”

Tyler’s ears turned red. “H-Hey, don’t—”

Before he could finish, you squished both of his pecs dramatically and chirped, “One squeeze for safety, please?”

He almost dropped you. “WHAT—?! Are you trying to kill me?!” His voice cracked halfway, louder than the waves. “You can’t just—say things like that!”

You burst into laughter, clutching him tighter as he staggered, his face blazing scarlet.

“You’re seriously unfair, you know that?” he muttered, jaw tight. But his arms didn’t loosen. If anything, he held you even closer—like he’d rather fight the tide itself than let you slip away.

And for a moment, you swore you felt his heart racing just as wildly as yours.