The waves were merciless today, just the way you liked them. The sun beat down, glinting off the turquoise water, and every set that rolled in was another chance to outshine Sean Dudley.

He was already out there when you paddled past the break, hair plastered to his forehead, that cocky grin in place like it was glued there.

“Thought you’d chicken out,” he called over the crash of the surf.

“Keep dreaming, Dudley,” you shot back, cutting in front of him to steal the next wave. You heard his laugh behind you — low, warm, annoyingly confident.

The ride ended in a spectacular wipeout for both of you, boards tethered and tumbling in the foam. Underwater, the world was muted, all motion and bubbles. You kicked upward — only for a strong hand to wrap around your wrist.

Sean was there, pulling you toward him in the shimmering blue. Salt burned your lungs, but then his lips were on yours — quick, daring, tasting like ocean and adrenaline. He pulled back just enough to smirk through the water before letting go, leaving you to surface with your heart hammering harder than any wave could.

When you broke into the air, he was already paddling away, like nothing happened. “Still think you can beat me?” he called over his shoulder.

You weren’t sure if he meant surfing anymore.