Page 142 of Banter & Blushes #1
“ A re you sure about this?” I ask, squinting at him. “It’s not too late to just admit this was a bad idea and go get pancakes instead.”
The salty scent of the ocean clings to the morning air as Keigan stands at the shoreline, holding a paddleboard with far too much confidence for someone who’s never done this before.
The sun glints off the water, turning the waves into shimmery, rolling ribbons, and the beach is quiet except for the soft rush of the tide and the occasional call of a gull.
It’s the kind of morning that would feel peaceful if I weren’t currently second-guessing every life choice that led me to agreeing to this.
Keigan flashes me one of his trademark grins—the kind that has probably sold a million movie tickets—and plants the paddleboard in the sand like he’s staking his claim. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you’re the one who said I wouldn’t last five minutes.”
“That was a joke,” I say, though it’s only half true. “You know, like, a throwaway comment. Not an actual invitation to turn this into some kind of… competition.”
His grin widens. “Oh, it’s a competition now? Great. I love a little friendly rivalry.”
I groan as Winston, perched comfortably on the beach towel I brought for him, lets out a soft snort of what I can only assume is judgment. “You do realize you’re in a beach town, right? Paddleboarding isn’t exactly new to me.”
“Correction,” Keigan says, stepping onto the board with one foot like he’s auditioning for an action movie. “It’s new to me . I’m just setting the bar low so I can impress you later. So, Becky, are you going to be able to keep up?”
“Your funeral,” I say as I shake my head, grab my paddle and haul my board into the shallows .
“You’d let me die?” He fake gasps.
I turn and wink at him. “Only if you try to take me down with you. I can’t leave Winston alone.”
His teasing tone and the mischief in his eyes are enough to make my cheeks warm even as I concentrate on not falling off my board.
The water is cool against my ankles, and for a moment, I let myself focus on the sensation—the gentle pull of the tide, the way the sunlight dapples the surface.
It’s calming, but only for a second, because then Keigan plants both feet on his board and immediately tilts sideways.
There’s a flurry of arm windmilling, a strangled yelp, and then a tremendous splash.
Water sprays up like he’s trying to summon a geyser.
I wince on instinct even though I’m several feet away.
“You okay over there, Captain Confidence?” I call, paddling toward him..
He surfaces with wet hair plastered to his forehead and a triumphant grin. “That was a tactical dive. Element of surprise. Confuse the enemy.”
I rest my elbows on my paddle and blink at him. “And who exactly is the enemy?”
He lifts an eyebrow and makes a vague swooshing motion toward a very innocent looking patch of water. “The ocean. It looked at me funny.”
“You’ve been in the water for sixty seconds and you’ve already declared war on a natural body of water.”
“I like to keep things exciting.” He coughs a little as he swims back toward his board. “Also, not to alarm you,
I roll my eyes while trying very hard not to laugh. Very, very hard.
“You’re doing great,” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “Really. Very impressive.”
He shoots me a mock glare, his paddle slicing through the water with a little more force than necessary. “I feel like you’re mocking me.”
“Me? Never.”
It doesn’t take long for us to drift a little farther from shore, the beach shrinking behind us as the water deepens into a rich, endless blue.
The sun climbs higher, warming my shoulders, and for a moment, the rhythm of paddling feels almost meditative.
I can hear the distant cries of seagulls and the occasional splash of water as Keigan struggles to keep his balance, and it’s… nice. Peaceful, even.
And then, because the universe has a sense of humor, Keigan’s board tilts suddenly to the side, and with a loud splash, he’s in the water.
Again.
I burst out laughing, nearly losing my own balance as I double over, clutching the paddle like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. Keigan surfaces a second later, shaking water out of his hair and blinking up at me with an exaggerated look of betrayal.
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh, I am, ” I manage between fits of laughter. “I really, really am.”
He swims over to his board, hauling himself back onto it with a dramatic groan. “You could’ve at least pretended to be concerned.”
“Concerned?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re in, like, five feet of water. The only thing I’m concerned about is how many fish heard that splash and are currently laughing at you.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but there’s amusement there, and I know he’s already plotting his revenge. Sure enough, he grabs his paddle and starts splashing water in my direction, sending a spray of droplets my way.
“Hey!” I yelp, holding up my hands to shield myself. “Cut it out!”
“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “What was that about me being ‘Captain Confidence’?”
I paddle away quickly, laughing as he tries—and fails—to catch up. For a while, we chase each other across the water, our laughter echoing over the waves, and it feels so light, so easy, that I almost forget why I was hesitant to spend so much time with him in the first place.
Eventually, we make our way back to the shore, collapsing onto the sand beside Winston, who looks entirely unimpressed by our antics.
I’m still dripping wet, my hair sticking to my face and my clothes clinging to me, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Keigan flops down beside me, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.
“That was fun,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, like he’s speaking just for me.
“Yeah,” I admit, leaning back on my hands and tilting my face toward the sun. “It was.”
The ocean stretches out before us, vast and glittering. I shift and meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes both disarming and endearing. I reach out, intertwining my fingers with his.
“Consider this your invitation,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Invitation to what?” He says with a smirk.
I squeeze his hand, raising one eyebrow. “Don’t make me spell it out.”
“Oh no,” he says, scooting a fraction closer on the towel. “Please do. I’d like it notarized. Possibly engraved.”
My heart is trying to set a new land speed record, and I’m pretty sure he can hear it. Or maybe he just sees it in the way my eyes keep darting to his mouth and back. His thumb brushes over mine like he’s testing something, asking a question without words.
His voice dips. “You’re really giving me the green light here?”
I nod once. “Unless you’d rather go back to paddleboarding and pretending you didn’t fall in five times.”
“First of all, it was four. Second of all, you’re deflecting.”
“And you’re stalling,” I shoot back.
“Oh, I’m not stalling.” His free hand comes up slowly, like he’s moving through water. He tucks a windblown strand of hair behind my ear, and it’s the softest thing in the world. “I’m savoring. ”
My breath catches—no, not catches. It stumbles and rolls right over itself. He leans in, not fast, not showy, just… sure. And when his lips finally meet mine, it’s not fireworks or a movie climax. It’s something quieter. A little off-center. Sun-warmed and salt-kissed and real.
My fingers tighten around his as the kiss lingers, unhurried, like we’ve got all the time in the world and neither of us wants to be the one to break it.
When we finally part, he doesn’t say anything right away. Just rests his forehead against mine and exhales, like maybe he was holding his breath too.
“So…” he says at last, voice low and pleased. “Should I start calling you my paddleboarding coach or my girlfriend?”
I snort, gently bumping my shoulder against his. “Let’s stick with coach for now.”
“For now,” he echoes, and the smile he gives me this time—it’s not the one from movie posters or magazine covers. It’s just for me.
And I feel like I could stay right here, fingers tangled, sun on my skin, and his laugh tucked in my pocket, forever.