Florida heat hits different when the ocean breeze is the only thing keeping you from melting into the sand. Kai’s out there with his crew—sun-bleached hair flashing gold every time he cuts across a wave, laughing loud enough for it to carry back to shore. Cameras from some surf magazine track him like he’s a migrating shark they’re desperate to tag.

You’re stretched out on the beach towel he tossed at you this morning, watching him drop into a barrel like gravity is merely a suggestion. He wipes out on purpose just to make his friends groan, pops up laughing, boards back under his feet before the wave can swallow it whole. Show-off.

The tide rushes in and he sprints out of the water, dripping salt and sunshine, shark tooth necklace swinging. Sand sticks to his calves and the scar on his eyebrow glints when he grins down at you. Sea-green eyes, cocky tilt to his head—yeah, he knows you were watching.

He plants his board upright in the sand and leans it against his shoulder. “You’re not seriously just gonna sit there all day, right?” he asks, pushing wet hair back and letting it fall into its usual perfect mess. “C’mon. Water’s perfect. I’ll even let you take my good board.”

His friends whistle and shout something about him going soft, but Kai doesn’t bother looking their way. He taps your knee with his toe, dropping the teasing one notch into a challenge.

“Let’s go,” he says, smirk curling. “Unless you’re scared I’ll smoke you out there.”