The next morning came wrapped in sunlight and ocean breeze.
Eliana woke slowly, blinking into the soft, honey-colored glow filtering through the gauzy curtains. For a second, she didn't know where she was. Then she heard laughter from outside—loud, bright, familiar—and it all came rushing back. The beach house. The fire. Nicky's voice singing. His hand on her thigh. His head on her shoulder.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow with a quiet groan.
Her body ached in that way that had nothing to do with sleep. Her muscles were loose, but her chest was tight. Her heart felt like it had been scooped out during the night and replaced with something too warm, too soft, too foolish.
She got dressed slowly. A red swimsuit—more revealing than she usually wore. Deep scoop neck. Open back. High-cut sides that made her legs look miles long and her confidence feel... borrowed.
She threw a white crochet cover-up over it and slipped on sandals.
When she stepped onto the deck, the view stole her breath.
The sea was endless. A brilliant stretch of blue that shimmered under the rising sun. The rented boat bobbed a few yards off the dock—sleek, white, gleaming like a promise.
And there, at the edge of the water, stood Nicky.
Wearing a loose mesh top over swim trunks, sunglasses perched on his head, skin already glowing. His hair was damp, pushed back casually. He laughed at something Elias said, tipping his head back with a smile that made something inside her squeeze tight.
God, he was beautiful.
Not just aesthetically. Not just in the easy way people noticed. But in the way he moved. The way he lit up around people. The way he existed like joy was a birthright.
And she hated that her heart kept confusing that beauty for something else. Something it could reach.
"Elianaaa!" Renee called from the dock, waving her arms dramatically. "Looking like trouble this morning!"
Eliana grinned and made her way down, trying not to trip on the uneven boards.
"Jesus," Renee said, eyeing her up and down as she adjusted her oversized hat. "You're gonna cause a maritime accident. Those poor men on fishing boats won't stand a chance."
Eliana laughed, cheeks already pink.
Renee leaned in closer, stage-whispering, "Can I touch your boobs? For science?"
Eliana slapped her arm, nearly dropping her sunglasses. "Renee!"
"What? It's for the integrity of the moment."
"You're drunk."
"It's ten a.m."
"You're still drunk."
Renee just winked and floated away toward the boat.
They all clambered onboard—Valeria instantly claimed the front for maximum sun. Luca found the built-in cooler and began organizing drinks with ruthless efficiency. Elias sprawled out across three cushions like a Roman emperor on vacation.
Nicky slid in beside Eliana as the engine roared to life, his thigh brushing hers again like it was nothing.
He smelled like sunscreen and coconut shampoo. Like safety. Like temptation. Like disaster waiting to happen.
"Ready for your Titanic moment?" he asked, nudging her.
"Only if I get to push you off the side."
"Ooh, dark. I love it."
The boat carved through the waves, wind whipping through their hair, laughter trailing behind them in salty streaks. Eliana stood at the rail for a while, letting the mist spray her face, watching the coastline shrink into a blur of trees and white sand.
They stopped at a shallow reef, water clear and turquoise as a gemstone. Fish flickered below the surface, silver and electric blue.
Time to snorkel.
The boat anchored. Elias was the first to dive in with a dramatic splash, yelling something about being born in the sea.
Eliana adjusted her mask, trying to get it to fit right. She hesitated at the edge, one foot already wet.
"You coming?" Nicky asked, already halfway down the ladder.
She nodded, trying not to stare at how good he looked all soaked and laughing and carefree.
The water was cold. Sharp. Perfect.
She dove in.
For the next half hour, they floated through a world of color and motion—reef life blooming around them, fish darting past in streaks of neon. Eliana drifted beside Elias for a while, both of them pointing excitedly at little coral arches and clusters of sea urchins.
"You'd make a good mermaid," he said through his snorkel, when they surfaced for a break.
She laughed, wiping water from her eyes. "Only if I get the seashell bra."
"Obviously."
They treaded water for a while, watching the others. Renee clung dramatically to Nicky, claiming her mask made her look like a frog. Nicky teased her, then helped her float. Valeria tried to take underwater selfies with Luca and nearly drowned.
Eliana leaned her head back, letting the sun warm her face, the ocean hold her up.
Elias swam closer, resting on his back beside her.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She opened one eye. "Yeah. Why?"
"You look a little... full."
"Of?"
He shrugged. "Feelings. Thoughts. Things unsaid."
She smiled softly. "You're observant for someone who just tried to race a fish."
"I'm secretly deep," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Like a hot poet."
They both laughed.
But it settled her. In a way she didn't expect. There was something comforting about Elias—wild and loose and silly, but not unkind. Not oblivious.
They swam back to the boat together.
Nicky handed her a towel when she climbed aboard, his hand warm on the small of her back. "You looked like a little sea sprite out there."
"Thanks, Poseidon."
They ate lunch on the boat—grilled shrimp, cold pasta salad, sticky fingers, and lemon soda. Eliana sat cross-legged in the shade, watching everyone laugh and drink and tease each other.
Nicky sat beside her again.
Always beside her.
Their legs touched.
And every time he smiled, every time he said something sweet and absentminded, every time he brushed her shoulder or called her angel or El, her heart sank a little deeper into the ocean.
She was falling.
Slow and steady.
And she wasn't sure she could stop.
When they returned to the beach house that evening, the sun was setting again. A new gold. A new softness. Eliana trailed behind the others, sand between her toes, swimsuit clinging to her skin, her chest full of too many things she couldn't say.
Nicky caught up to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder.
"You tired?" he asked, voice soft.
She nodded. "A little."
"You had fun though, right?"
She looked at him. At his sea-tangled hair. His stupid gorgeous face. His kind, oblivious eyes.
"Yeah," she said. "I did."
"Good." He squeezed her once before letting go. "Tomorrow we're paddleboarding. I expect you to fall dramatically."
She smiled faintly. "You always expect me to fall."
He grinned. "You fall beautifully."
And she almost said it.
Almost.
Right there in the golden sand and fading light.
I'm falling for you.
But she didn't.
Because he would laugh. Or worse—he would look at her with those soft, sorry eyes and say something sweet and final and safe.
So instead, she walked beside him, quiet, her heart full of ocean and him.
And for now, that had to be enough.