The others had moved farther up the shore, Harper tugging Ashcroft toward the beach bar for fresh fruit skewers and rum smoothies. Maya lingered near the edge of the towels, still catching her breath—legs unsteady for reasons that had little to do with the waves.
Damien stood a few feet away, brushing sand off his arms, the sun casting a golden sheen across his wet skin. His board shorts clung low on his hips, droplets sliding down his back in slow, unhurried trails.
He turned, holding out a towel. “Here.”
Maya hesitated before taking it. “Thanks…”
Her fingers grazed his, and her skin tingled at the contact—too aware. Of everything. Of him. Of the way her body still hummed from earlier. She could feel the phantom imprint of his hands on her waist, the way he steadied her… held her… wan
