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Kiera’s expression flickered, unreadable, but she nodded. “Alright. Maybe I’ll see you down there.”

Izzy didn’t answer. She just turned, grabbed her board, and strode down the path toward the beach like she had somewhere urgent to be.

By the time she hit the sand, the weight in her chest hadn’t eased. If anything, it pressed heavier. She walked straight toward the water’s edge, the morning tide licking at her ankles as she tossed her towel and board onto the sand and stood there, hands on her hips, watching the horizon.

This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous.

Kiera was still trying to piece together her life after everything crumbled, and Izzy was feeling this intense draw over a woman who didn’t even see her that way.

And yet.

No.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the image from flooding her mind — Kiera’s wind-tousled hair at Point Loma, her dark eyes glinting with amusement as she’d teased Izzy, the way her lips had parted slightly when they’d stood too close on the rocks, like maybe she’d been thinking about this attraction, too.

Izzy groaned, pressing her palms against her face. No. No, she was not doing this.

She needed to push these feelings down, bury them deep where they belonged.

With an exhausted exhale, she picked up her board and headed out toward the waves, toward the only place where her mind felt clear.

CHAPTER 9

Kiera

The sun beatdown on the sand, warm and relentless, though their cluster of umbrellas provided some much-needed shade. Kiera stretched out on a lounge chair, her wide-brimmed straw hat tilted low over her face as she sipped from a can of sparkling water. Around her, Maggie and Danica had settled into the same lazy rhythm, chatting or half-dozing as the waves rolled in a steady, hypnotic rhythm.

Pete and Izzy, predictably, couldn’t sit still. A few yards away, they tossed a frisbee back and forth with a couple of guys who had wandered over, eager to join in. The men were the typical San Diego beach type — sun-kissed skin, tousled hair, an effortless cool to their movements. Kiera barely paid them any mind, more focused on applying sunscreen to her legs, making sure to get every inch.

Maggie, stretched out beside her under the umbrella, let out an amused sigh. “Do you think Izzy and Pete realize they’re being flirted with?”

Kiera glanced over at them, watching as one of the guys laughed a little too enthusiastically at something Izzy said, brushing his hand through his hair in a way that was painfully obvious. Oblivious to her admirer's attempts, Pete remained engrossed in her world, showcasing her expert frisbee skills with sniper-like precision.

“Nope,” Kiera replied, smirking. “Not even a little.”

Danica, lying on a towel beside them, adjusted her sunglasses. “It’s honestly painful to watch. That guy is literally flexing every time he throws the frisbee.”

“I respect the dedication,” Maggie murmured, taking a sip from her bottle of water. “Even if it’s wildly ineffective.”

Kiera chuckled, leaning back against her chair. It was nice, the easy camaraderie of the moment. No silent grudges, no awkwardness. Just a group of friends enjoying the kind of afternoon that felt endless and golden, the kind of day that was meant to be tucked away for safekeeping.

Danica propped herself up on her elbows, nodding toward the group still playing. “I swear, if Pete catches that frisbee mid-air one more time, that guy’s going to propose on the spot.”

Maggie snorted. “I give it ten minutes before he starts asking her if she surfs.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Danica agreed. “The other one’s going to turn to Izzy and say,‘You ever try paddle boarding at sunset? Changed my life.’” She dipped her voice lower into a silly imitation of a frat bro.

Kiera laughed, adjusting her hat. “Please. Izzy will be the one who ends up lecturing him about ocean pollution and the carbon footprint of beach tourism.”

Maggie grinned. “You’ve gotten that lecture, too? I don’t know, some people could be wooed by that sort of talk.”

Kiera hesitated just a beat too long before replying, “I mean… it’s notnotattractive.”

Danica raised an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. “Oh?”

Kiera groaned, tossing her empty soda bottle toward the cooler. “Don’t start.”

“Too late,” Maggie sing-songed. “I saw you at the bar last night. Kiera’s got a cru-ush.”