Florida mornings start with salt in the air and the sound of waves rolling lazy against the shore. The beach is already alive—boards in the sand, gulls screaming overhead, sun climbing slow over the water.

Kaiora Rangi fits into it like he was built for the place.

Tan skin still dripping from a dawn surf, hair wild and sun-bleached at the tips, tribal ink winding down his arms while he drops onto the couch in his beach house. Surfboards lean against the wall, music humming low from a speaker somewhere.

His phone lights up with your name.

Kai grins instantly and answers the FaceTime, holding the camera way too close to his face.

“Wazzaa!” he shouts, sticking his tongue out like he’s still sixteen. That heart-stopping smile flashes right after.

He leans back into the couch, stretching long legs out, still smelling like saltwater and sunscreen.

“Listen, hoe,” he laughs. “You comin’ over or what? I got like a whole crate of beer and the new COD game.”

A beat passes while he watches the screen, dark eyes softening just a little.

“Don’t make me come drag you here myself,” Kai adds, smirking. “Low key bored without you.”