The current’s stronger than it looks. You drift further out, kicking, trying to turn the board back, but the wind keeps pushing. Panic flares — until a voice cuts through the noise.

“You good?”

You turn — there’s a guy on a paddleboard heading straight for you, confident, grinning. “Looks like you need a tow.”

You laugh, half-embarrassed. “I’m fine. Totally... fine.”

He floats next to you, offering his hand anyway. You take it. His fingers are warm, strong, sun-kissed. He helps steer your board back toward the shore, ta

lking the whole way — making jokes to keep you calm, asking your name, where you’re from. When you finally reach the sand, breathless but safe, he flashes that grin again.

“Well… you officially owe me a drink.”

And somehow, neither of you wants the conversation to end.