The sun dipped low over the sparkling waters of the Italian coast, casting a golden glow across the beach. You stretched out on your lounge chair, the warm breeze brushing against your skin, the sound of waves crashing softly in the distance. Laughter bubbled up from your friends, Mia and Lila, as they debated over which gelato flavor was superior.

“This is perfect,” Mia sighed, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“Three months of sun, beaches, and gorgeous Italian boys,” Lila added with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed, about to tease her when you heard a commotion down by the water — a soccer ball went flying, and you saw a group of guys playing barefoot in the sand. One of them jogged toward your area, chasing after the ball. You barely had time to react before the ball rolled to a stop right next to your chair.

“Scusa!” A voice called out, and then he was there — tall, golden-haired, and grinning. His eyes were a sharp blue, full of mischief. He bent down to pick up the ball, his tanned arm brushing against your leg. “Sorry about that. My friends get a little… enthusiastic.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “It’s fine.”

He didn’t move right away, still crouched there, watching you with a teasing smile. “Are you American?”

“Yeah,” you said, suddenly aware of your heartbeat picking up.

“Well, welcome to Italy, bella. I’m Mateo.” He stood up, spinning the ball on his finger effortlessly. “If you’re looking for a local tour guide… I might know a guy.”

Behind you, Mia let out a barely contained giggle.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. “A little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He laughed, bright and unapologetic. “Only when I’m right. And I’m pretty sure you won’t find anyone better than me.”

The challenge in his eyes was clear — and you couldn’t help but wonder if this summer had just gotten a lot more interesting.