Summer with a Quantum Mechanic (Love Beach)

Chapter 1

Folklore plays through the speaker's of the black Genesis GV80. The borrowed ride is smooth and the interior luxurious. I feel bad leaving my own Volkswagen SUV behind in California, but that is one road trip I was not going to make alone.

The miles pass, and I alternate between humming along and rehearsing my presentation. The highway is busier than I expected, and I'm stuck behind an 18-wheeler carrying logs.

Nope. Not today.

I chuckle as I attempt to switch lanes, but there are too many cars and I'm stuck behind the death trap.

"Okay, Hope," I say aloud, gripping the steering wheel. "You've got this."

"First, we'll discuss the market trends, and then –" A small object falls off the truck, tumbling towards the SUV like a meteorite hurtling towards Earth. Or a ball of dirt falling from a truck but whatever.

The scene from "Final Destination" flashes through my mind, and I panic. In a wild overreaction worthy of America's Funniest Home Videos , I yank the wheel to the right, screaming at the top of my lungs.

Taylor Swift is still singing about facing death unaware of my own impending doom. The Genesis, with all its power and grace, swerves off the road, and before I know it, we're nose-diving into a ditch.

"Are you kidding me?" I shout. The SUV comes to stop, half-tilted in the ditch, and I'm left gripping the wheel, heart racing, still hearing TSwift in the the cabin.

"Keep your helmet. Keep your life, son. Just a flesh wound."

"Not the time, TayTay." I mutter just as the SUV groans in protest, its engine sputtering before falling silent. I bang my hand against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling inside me. "I'm going to be late. Fuck!"

I glance at the rearview mirror, taking in my appearance. Damn, I still look good. Weird. You'd think I'd look a little different given my near death experience because of my sheer stupidity versus a bit wild in the eyes.

"This was not on the agenda for today, Universe." I call out before grabbing my phone and climbing out of the SUV.

Perspiration peppers my forehead as the heat and humidity surround me. My Vince Camuto Fetemee Wedge Sandal's afford zero protection for my exposed toes in the tall grass. I will not think about all the bugs. Or snakes. Or bugs.

With an exasperated huff, I dial AAA, praying for a quick response.

"Hi, yes, my car - truck, suv - is stuck in a ditch on Highway 17, about 10 miles south of Mount Pleasant." I launch into the details of my location. The operator asks me to hold, and tinny hold music crackles through the speakerphone.

Carla is going to kill me for attempted murder of her precious Genesis X60.

I pace up and down the roadside, phone glued to my ear as I wait for the operator to return. Wonder if I'll get better reception on the hill? It's worth a shot. I scramble up the grassy slope, avoiding twisting my ankle in the strappy '70s inspired leather sandals.

My feet were used to not being in heels thanks to lockdown, but these are perfect complement to the . Maybe that's something I should continue?

"Hello? Are you still there?" Still no response. At this rate, I'll be lucky to make it to Myrtle Beach by night fall.

I'm so absorbed in my call I don't register the rumble of an approaching engine.

"Yes, I'm still here. We are trying to find the truck closest to you."

Why didn't they build more cell towers while we were all off the road for over a year?

A shadow falls over me, and I whirl around to find a very large tow truck parked behind my SUV. Seems a bit excessive. Wait. How long has that been there? The door swings open, and a man hops out. He's tall and muscular, with dirty blond hair and a scruffy beard.

Thor a la Vincent Donofrio from Adventures in Babysitting except with darker hair, more meat on his bones, a scruffy beard, and - focus!

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." Thor says with an easy smile. His voice is deep and gravelly like if Joe Arden and Richard Peitkoff had a baby.

"Hi. I'm Miles. I saw your SUV from the road and thought you might need some help."

I blink. "Oh, uh, yes. Thank you for coming so fast."

"Thanks, he's here." I go to end the call with the operator, but her "Who's there?" gives me pause.

Oh. Shit.

"Uh, who are you?" I ask the guy in the jeans and button down shirt. Button down shirt? WTF?

"Miles Larson from Beachside Motors. Remember, I said I saw you on the side of the road and pulled over?"

Oh. Right. "Uh." I turn back to my call. "Miles Larson from Beachside Motors?"

"Tall guy. Dirty blond hair? Check the name on the door of the truck and his license to make sure."

"Good idea." A few minutes later, the call ends and my phone is shoved into the pocket of my skirt.

"Sorry about that."

"No problem at all. It's better to be safe than a statistic."

True but he didn't need to remind me. Thor, I mean Miles ambles over to inspect my car, and take the opportunity gifted me.

Nice butt.

Nice back.

Can't see the package, tho. Damn shame.

Wonder if his thighs are as thick as they look in those pants?

Focus, Hope.

"Not too bad. Your SUV has a small dent in the front bumper plus you're going to need a good detailing for those wheels." Miles calls over his shoulder. "What happened?"

My cheeks grow warm. "Oh, just a little accident. Something fell off the truck in front of me and panicked."

He glances back with an amused smile. "Final Destination?"

I cross my arms across my chest. "Maybe."

Miles lets out a hearty laugh. "I saw that truck about thirty minutes ago. I pulled over and grabbed a float at Sonic to put as much distance between me and those logs." He winks, and I can't suppress a grin in return. Who is this handsome stranger, and why do I feel lighter than air? "Ms?"

"Hope." My thoughts race between the borrowed SUV perched in the ditch and the urgency of my upcoming meeting. "Hope Monroe. I appreciate your help. I borrowed this car from my friend Carla. She is going to kill me."

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of the ditch in no time."

Why does that make me sad?

Chapter 2

I watch Miles crouch beside the SUV inspecting the damage. "Well, I can't say without running a diagnostic, but it might be best not to drive this until we know it's safe."

"Great. How long will that take?" I sigh out trying to hide my frustration. Missing a meeting is not the best first impression.

"Not too long. Problem is the shop will be closed by the time we arrive. Mike, the Mechanic-"

I snicker at the unintentional 80s reference.

"Mike will be in the shop at 9am. There are about three cars ahead of you." He's looking down at his phone. "I've put you in the queue, so look for a call in the early afternoon unless something changes."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it. I don't know what I was thinking. My mind was elsewhere, I guess."

"Taylor have anything to do with your little detour?"

Is he teasing me? "Taylor?"

"Your music. Folklore or Evermore?"

"You know Taylor Swift?" Not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

"Pfft." He scoffs. "What kind of self respecting uncle would I be if I was unable to converse with my neice about the relative merits of either album to not only her overall discography but the music industry - nay, the world - in general?"

The uncontrollable burst of laughter is loud and unexpected, and I rush to control myself before the snorting begins.

"You don't say?"

"I do say. So does Sophie."

"Your niece?"

"The very - excuse me - only one."

"Only one?"

"In a sea of boys." And the pure disdain with which he says the word boys lets me know he's probably mimicking his neice's experession, "there is but one Sophie. The only female grandchild my parents will ever have."

What's a polite way to ask if he has kids and if he's still - "My son," he continues. "Is one of the icky carriers of two y chromosomes in the family. He gets by." He snorts.

I snort. Oh, shit, I just snorted. "I'm sure he does. How old is your son?"

There is no ring on that finger but you never know. Best to ease into this conversation. "Grayson turned 15 last month and is celebrating with his mother and stepfather in New Zealand as we speak."

Oh. "Lord of the Rings fans?"

"Thankfully, no. I cannot imagine the conversations we would have had about what brothers and sisters should not be doing together at such an impressionable age. No, his stepfather, Kurt, is from New Zealand and his daughter is getting married."

"That sounds lovely."

"It does, doesn't it? Lindsay, Grayson's mom, invited me to the ceremony, but I couldn't get away so quickly. It was kind of a last minute, they're going to elope if we don't do something soon event. " He pauses staring at me. "Why am I telling you all of this?"

"Passing time? Also, it's not you. There's something about me that causes people to spill all their innermost secrets."

"Really?" God, he's cute.

"Really. It's a gift and a curse." I laugh still remembering the gas station attendant at the Sam's Club. Hope he makes it to his gig in time.

"Oh, sorry."

"Shit. No, that's not. That's not what I meant at all. I'm from the South. I think it's a requirement to be able to strike up random conversations with strangers. At least, it was where I came from."

"You don't sound like you're from the South."

"I get that. Yep, no accent at all. Not sure why that is and can't say I'm upset about it." I watch Miles working the car. He hasn't paused in his attention to what he's doing during our entire conversation. "Done this a few times?"

"A few." He replies. Looing over his shoulder to flash me a heart-stopping grin. Miles works with an efficiency that's almost mesmerizing. His hands move with purpose, expertly attaching the tow hooks and chains. I stand by, watching him maneuver the tow truck, impressed by his silent competence. It's oddly attractive, this combination of strength and skill.

There's something about the way he carries himself – strong, confident, yet at ease – that makes my pulse race. I've always been in control of my life, never one to ask for help or admit defeat. Standing here next to Miles, I can feel my hidden vulnerability beginning to surface. For some reason, I don't mind.

The sunlight catches on Miles' hair as he works, making it glow like a halo around his head. The muscles in his arms flex with each movement, and I find my gaze lingering on the curve of his biceps. I shake my head, trying to focus on anything else, but my eyes betray me by returning to him. The metallic smell of burned rubber and gasoline invade my nostrils as I watch Miles connect the SUV to the hitch. Brows furrrowed in concentration, I almosst feeling guilty for making him dirty up his nice clothes.

"Rescue many damsels in distress?" There is absolutely no agenda behind my question. Nope.

He chuckles, not taking his eyes off the task at hand. "Not really. I don't usually drive the hitch, but I picked this one up in Charleston and was driving it back. You are its inaugural tow."

Ah, that explains his attire. "Lucky me."

"You might want to stand back." Miles says, his voice cutting through the din of passing vehicles.

"Oh, right. Sorry." I reply, taking a step back, swatting at a particularly persistent mosquito.

He secures the chains, the metal clangs sharply, a stark contrast to the softer sounds of the surrounding nature and the distant hum of the highway.

"All set." Miles announces, moving back to the truck. "This shouldn't take long."

The engine of his truck roars to life, a deep, a grumbling sound that promises power and capability. I watch, holding my breath as the SUV slowly begins to inch forward, the chains taut with the strain. Slowly, the vehicle emerges from the ditch, gravel crunching under its tires, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.

"Thank you," I say my admiration for him growing. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Called AAA?" He says, the skin surrounding his hazel crinkling with laughter.

"Right?" I reply. We stand there for a moment, the air between us somehow feeling both electrifying and comforting.

"Looks like everything is fine, but you may want to let me tow it to the station for a once over especially since it's a rental.

"Better safe than sorry?" I suggest.

"Exactly."

"I can give you a ride back if you'd like."

"Sure. I'm not going to make my meeting. Not sure I want to go anyway. I'll just all and reschedule while you load it up or whatever it's called." I wave mindlessly at the SUV and two truck.

The air is warm and thick with the scent of summer, mingling with the faint whiff of gasoline and oil. I look at Miles, his confident posture as he leans against the now-repaired SUV, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. A charged tension hums between us, almost tangible.

"Hey, it's Hope. First of all, I'm fine, but you're never going to believe this. A tow truck just pulled me out of a ditch. I'm fine. Really. Just tired, sweaty, and a little dirty."

The groaning sound of the pull system is loud, and I end the call rather than trying to talk over the noise.

"Your hands are really something," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not every day you meet someone who can fix a car like that."

"Thank you," he replies, his eyes holding mine captive. "There's just something about working with my hands that I find... satisfying."

It takes every ounce of maturity within me not to comment.

**********

We climb into the tow truck, I'm struck by how small the cab feels, our bodies just inches apart. The scent of his cologne, a subtle mixture of sandalwood and citrus, fills the air, and I find myself breathing deeply, savoring the aroma.

"Buckle up," Miles says, his voice low and smooth. "Safety first."

I nod, fumbling with the seatbelt as I try to ignore the way my heart races at his proximity. He pulls onto the road, I can't help but steal glances at him from the corner of my eye, admiring the strong line of his jaw and the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence.

"So, what brings you to Love Beach?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

I hesitate, wondering how much to reveal. "Work, actually. I have a big presentation tomorrow at the conference center."

"Ah, so you're one of those corporate types, huh?" His tone is teasing, and I can't help but smile.

"Guilty as charged, but don't hold it against me - I'm actually quite charming once you get to know me."

"I don't doubt that for a second," he replies, and I swear his flirting with me.

We continue to chat, I find myself opening up to him in a way I haven't with anyone in a long time. We talk about our shared love of terrible puns, our favorite childhood memories, and our dreams for the future.

It's refreshing, being able to connect with someone on a deeper level, even if it is just a brief encounter in a tow truck.

I bite back the pang of disappointment, knowing our time together is coming to an end. I'm not ready to say goodbye, not when I feel like I'm just starting to get to know him.

"Well, here we are," Miles says, pulling into the parking lot. "Let's get your car checked out and make sure everything's in working order."

I nod, trying to hide my reluctance as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "Thank you again, for everything. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

He shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "No need to repay me. It's all part of the job."

I will not ask if there's a happy ending package!!

**********

Miles leads me into the auto shop, the cool air conditioning providing a welcome respite from the sweltering heat outside. He exchanges a few words with the mechanic, explaining the situation with my car and arranging for a thorough inspection.

As they discuss the details, I find myself studying Miles, admiring the confident way he carries himself. It's hard to believe that someone so accomplished and sought-after on the internet could be so down-to-earth in person.

"Alright, everything's set," Miles says, turning back to me. "They'll take good care of your car and give me a call when it's ready to go."

"Thank you, really," I say, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

He smiles, and I swear my heart skips a beat. "It was my pleasure, Hope. I'm just glad I could help."

We stand there for a moment, an awkward silence settling between us. I know I should say goodbye, but I can't seem to find the words.

"Well, I guess I should get going," Miles says rubbing the back of his neck. "Unless there's anything else I can do for you?"

I shake my head, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. "No, no, you've done more than enough already."

He nods, turning to leave, but something inside me snaps. I can't let him walk away, not without at least trying to see him again.

"Wait," I blurt out, my cheeks flushing. "I was thinking, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? You know, as a thank you for rescuing me today?"

Surprise crosses his face. I'm afraid he'll say no, that I've overstepped my bounds.

He smiles a genuine, heart-melting smile that makes my knees go weak. "I'd like that, Hope. How about tomorrow afternoon at The Cove? I hear they make a mean latte."

"It's a date," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I mean, not a date-date, but, you know, a friendly coffee date."

Miles chuckles. "I know what you mean. I'll see you then."

With a final wave, he turns and heads back to the tow truck, leaving me standing there with a goofy grin on my face.

Chapter 3

"Great job, Hope!" Sarah says. "You knocked it out of the park."

"Thanks," I reply, trying to sound modest but savoring the praise. "I'm just glad it's over and they liked my ideas."

I gather my laptop and notes, feeling like I'm walking on air. After the stress of preparing for this meeting, it's a relief to have it behind me. A few more people stop to congratulate me on the way out. Maybe I'm not an imposter after all, I think to myself. Hope Monroe, Instructional Design Rockstar.

Stepping out of the air-conditioned building, the muggy Southern heat envelops me like a moist blanket straight out of the dryer. I'd gotten used to the cool conference room, but the tropical humidity of Love Beach still takes some adjusting. Luckily, my post-presentation high keeps me in good spirits as I stroll down the street, even as my blouse starts sticking to my back.

The energy of this seaside town never fails to amaze me. Tourists amble down the sidewalks eating dripping ice cream cones from O'Leahey's Creamery. Snatches of laughter and chatter fill the air. The salty smell of the ocean wafts on the breeze, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fried seafood from a food cart. Palm trees sway overhead.

Part of me resists falling for Love Beach's charms, but I can't deny how alive I feel here. It's so different from the dreary gray of my old life.

"Watch out!" A kid on a skateboard whizzes by, narrowly avoiding crashing into me and jolting me out of my reverie. I jump aside with a startled laugh.

Regaining my footing, I continue on, taking in the pastel cottages lining the street. It really is picture-perfect. Like something out of a Hallmark movie. I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to see why people lose their hearts to Love Beach. Already, a traitorous part of me feels at home.

**********

Scanning the bustling pier crowd, my gaze lands on him—Miles Bennett aka YouTube's very own Physics Daddy. I still can't believe I didn't immediately recognize him. Fucking sexy geek.

Our eyes meet and it's like a jolt of electricity. No pun intended. His face lights up with a smile that could power the Eastern Seaboard, and despite my determination to stay aloof I can't the giddy smile spreading across my face.

"Well hello there." I say when we finally reach each other, mustering my best teasing smile. "Fancy meeting you here among the seagulls and sunburned tourists."

Miles chuckles, blue eyes twinkling. "Hello, Hope. How are you? Your presentation was today, right?"

"I don't need to ask how you know that, Dr. Miles Bennet, since we may be working together upon your return."

He blushes, and I want to kiss the blush of redness across his cheek. "Guilty as charged. I thought I recognized your name, but I'm not on the decision committe. Exactly."

"Exactly." I quip back. No, he's only the owner and star of GeekU - a non-profit made up of STEM professionals making freely accessible videos on the internet.

"I ganed 20 pounds during lockdown." Fine. It was really 40. "You became Physic's Daddy, and taught the world to love Physics - for the first time."

"Something like that." He ducks his head, and the shyness makes me wanna corrupt him and run away in equal measure.

We weave through the throng of beachgoers, vendors hawking saltwater taffy, and a guy juggling starfish (only in Love Beach...), the distance between us shrinks. My traitorous heart does a little tapdance the closer we get. So much for playing it cool.

The salty sea breeze ruffles his hair, and I have the absurd urge to reach out and smooth them.

Get it together, Hope. This is the guy who's about to peace out to Middle Earth. Keep it light.

"I must say, for a big-time YouTube star, you blend right in with us mere mortals," I quip. "No paparazzi tailing you? No fans clamoring for autographs on their pocket protectors?"

"Ha! No paparazzi, but I do have the occasional grateful parent offering to buy my Boba or dinner depending."

"Ooh. I wonder what The Enquirer would pay for an exclusive? 'Physics Daddy Dishes on Love Beach'?"

"Hm, tempting. Is The Enquirer still a thing? I thought it would be TMZ now. No, I'm far more interested in what flavor of ice cream the brilliant Hope Monroe will choose."

He bumps my shoulder, and I fight to control the goofy grin taking over my face. Our banter flows as naturally as the tides rolling in and out. It's nice. Easy. Nothing like the torturous verbal tennis matches with my ex.

I arch an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "Are you trying to lure me in with sugary treats, Mr. Bennett?"

"I figure if I ply you with the most delicious ice cream on the planet, you might just stick around for more scintillating physics banter."

"Better than Blue Bell? We'll have to see. Lead the way, good sir." The glass and wood door open to the enticing of waffle cones, cream, and sugar.

We stand before the dizzying array of flavors, but a gauntlet was dropped. I order my favorite, Butter Pecan, and prepare for the disappointment. Nobody does it better than Blue Bell, but it's a thing I do.

"Ah, a classic choice." Nutty and creamy.

I barely hold back my laugh. I am a mature woman.

"Whereas I, ever the adventurer, shall boldly venture into the uncharted territory of..." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Razzelberry Banana!"

I scrunch up my face. "Seems like too much going on in one scoop. Careful now, that wild streak might just sweep me off my feet."

"One can only hope." He says with a wink.

I am so not charmed.

Liar.

We step away from the counter cones and cups in hand. "So, tell me, what does a quantum engineer do for fun when he's not dazzling the world with his brilliance?"

Miles chuckles ducking his head. "Oh, you know, the usual. Binge-watching documentaries, tinkering with gadgets, and attempting to bake the perfect sourdough loaf."

"A lockdown renaissance man!" I exclaim, taking a lick of my indulgent treat. "Color me impressed."

We meander along the pier, trading quips and anecdotes as the sun begins its lazy descent toward the horizon. The easy rapport between is everything I ever wanted, I wish this moment could stretch on indefinitely.

Miles must sense the subtle shift in my demeanor because he bumps against mine. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just... enjoying the moment." I say.

He studies me for a beat with those hypnotically blue eyes. "Sometimes, that's all we can do."

We continue our leisurely stroll, Miles' places his hand on the small of my back. It's a simple gesture, but it feels loaded with unspoken meaning. I can't help but marvel at how we've fallen into this easy intimacy, as if our bodies are already attuned to each other's rhythms.

I glance up at him, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You know, if you wanted to get closer, you could've just asked."

"And miss the chance to sweep you off your feet with my smooth moves? Not a chance."

I roll my eyes, but I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face. "Oh, so that's your master plan? Charm me with ice cream and subtle touches?"

"Is it working?" He asks. His tone is laced with mischief.

I pretend to consider it for a moment, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I don't know. I might need a few more samples before I can make an informed decision."

"Well, in that case..." Miles' hand slides from my back to my waist, pulling me closer as we walk. The heat of his touch seeps through the thin fabric of my sundress, and I feel my cheeks flush in response.

Chapter 4

I snort with laughter as Miles and I whip around the corner of the science museum exhibit, racing to press the buttons on the interactive displays. For a renowned quantum engineer, the man has a childlike glee when it comes to anything remotely science-y. It's adorable.

"Ha! Beat you to the gravity simulator!" I crow slamming my hand on the large red button. Miles grins at me.

"Alright, alright, you win this round. Just wait until we get to the planetarium - I'm going to school you on constellations, Monroe."

"Bring it on, Physics Daddy." I smirk back at him, feeling a flutter at the easy banter between us. Who knew geeking out at a science museum could be such a turn-on?

We spend the next few hours nerding out - building miniature rockets, gawking at the towering T-Rex skeleton, and yes, Miles does indeed show off his encyclopedic knowledge of the night sky in the planetarium. By the time we stumble out of the museum, our cheeks sore from laughter, the sun is already starting to dip.

"I can't remember the last time I had this much fun," I admit as we amble towards the beach, our shoulders brushing with each step. "My weekends involve a pint of ice cream and binge-watching 'Love Island.'"

Miles chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "Same here. Well, minus the 'Love Island' bit. I'm more of a 'Cosmos' guy myself."

"Why am I not surprised?" I tease, nudging him with my elbow. We step onto the sand and kick off our shoes to walk barefoot, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more contemplative.

The sound of the waves becomes a soothing metronome, the whoosh and hiss blending with the distant cries of seagulls. I breathe in tasting the tang of salt on my tongue. It's peaceful out here, with the vastness of the ocean stretching before us and the fading light painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Miles murmurs, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes I get so caught up in my work, in the minutiae of atoms and quarks, that I forget to appreciate the bigger picture."

I hum in agreement, my heart clenching at the wistfulness in his voice. "I know what you mean. It's easy to get mired the day-to-day grind, but moments like these..." I trail off, gesturing at the sunset-soaked beach. "They remind you of what really matters."

Miles turns to look at me then, his expression softening. "What matters to you, Hope? What do you want out of life?"

The question catches me off guard, and I blink at him for a moment, considering. What do I want? It's something I've been grappling with a lot lately, especially after the disaster of my last relationship.

"I want... I want to create something meaningful," I say. "I love my work as an instructional designer, crafting courses and experiences can impact people's lives. Sometimes I wonder if I'm playing it too safe, you know? If I should be taking more risks, dreaming bigger."

Miles nods slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I think that's admirable, Hope. Wanting to make a difference, to leave your mark on the world. I think you're incredibly brave. Starting over in a new place, opening yourself up to new experiences and people. That takes guts."

"I haven't said I'd take the job yet."

Miles squeezes my hand his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I'm working on that."

*********

The golden light of the setting sun paints the beach in a soft, warm glow, casting long shadows across the sand. The moment feels suspended in time, as if the world has slowed down just for us. I can't help but marvel at the beauty of it all - the way the sun's rays dance across the water, the gentle breeze that carries the scent of salt and summer, and the man beside me, whose presence seems to amplify the magic of it all.

We sit there, our shoulders brushing and our hands intertwined, I become increasingly aware of how close we are - not just physically, but emotionally too. It's as if each minute spent together has woven an invisible thread between us, drawing us closer with every shared laugh, every heartfelt confession.

My heart races, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty coursing through my veins. Part of me wants to lean and let myself be swept away by the tide of emotions. Another part - the part that's happy with not sharing bathroom counter space - isn't convinved a few orgasms - however mindblowing - are worth the effort.

"You know, I never thought I'd find myself here," I murmur, my eyes fixed on the horizon. "Not just in Love Beach, but... here. With you. Feeling like maybe, just maybe, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Miles turns to me, his gaze soft and understanding. "Funny how life works out sometimes, isn't it? One minute you're just going about your business, and the next..."

"Everything changes," I finish, my voice above a whisper.

He nods, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "Change can be scary, but it can also be beautiful. It's all about how you choose to look at it."

Without a word, Miles takes my hand in his, his fingers intertwining with mine as if they were always meant to be there. There's a quiet understanding in the touch, as if words aren't needed to acknowledge the emotions passing between us.

I glance down at our joined hands, marveling at how they fit together. It's strange how something so small can feel so monumental. That seems to be the theme of this entire trip - tiny moments that somehow manage to turn my world upside down.

Miles's thumb brushes gently over my knuckles, and I can't help but smile. It's such a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes. In that moment, I feel seen, understood, and cherished in a way I never have before.

Our eyes meet in a lingering, silent gaze, and the connection between us is undeniable. There's an unspoken understanding in the way he looks at me, as if he can see straight into my soul. Time seems to stretch in that moment, as we both acknowledge the growing bond between us.

I find myself getting lost in the depths of his blue eyes, wondering how I ever managed to live without this feeling. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once, like standing on the edge of a cliff and knowing that jumping will either be the best decision you've ever made or the worst.

Miles continues to hold my gaze, I realize that maybe it's not about the jumping at all. Maybe it's about the hand that's holding yours, promising to catch you if you fall.

"Hope," he whispers, my name falling from his lips like a prayer.

I swallow hard my heart racing. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad I met you."

The words are simple, but they carry the weight of a thousand unsaid things. I squeeze his hand.

"Me too, Miles. Me too."

Miles leans in closer, his breath warm against my skin. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, and it's like every nerve ending in my being is on high alert. His movements are slow, deliberate, giving me plenty of time to pull away if I want to.

I don't. I don't want to pull away. I want to lean in, to close the distance between us and feel his lips on mine.

So I do.

Chapter 5

Our lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss, and it's like every unspoken emotion that's been building between us is given voice. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin, and I melt into his touch.

The kiss is soft, tender, and filled with promise. It's a kiss that says "I see you" and "I want you" and "I'm here." It's a kiss that makes me forget about everything else in the world, about all the reasons why this shouldn't be happening.

Nothing else matters. Not the sound of the ocean or the distant chatter of other beachgoers. Not the fact that we live on opposite sides of the world or that our lives are so different.

All that matters is the feel of Miles' lips on mine, the way his hand fits against the small of my back, the way our bodies seem to mold together like two pieces of a puzzle.

I lose myself in the kiss, in the taste of him, in the way he makes me feel. It's like I'm drowning and he's the only thing keeping me afloat, the only thing tethering me to reality.

I give myself over to the moment, there's a small voice in the back of my mind whispering words of caution. Reminding me that this can't last, that Miles is leaving soon, that I'm setting myself up for heartbreak.

I push those thoughts aside, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. On the way Miles' fingers tangle in my hair, on the soft sigh that escapes his lips as I press myself closer to him.

We break apart, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other. Miles' eyes are still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Wow," he breathes, and I can't help but laugh.

"Yeah," I agree. "Wow."

The salty evening breeze dances across my skin as we untangle ourselves, the heat of Miles' touch still lingering. I take a step back, letting my eyes roam over his face, committing every detail to memory. The way his hair is mussed. The softness in his eyes, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments ago. The gentle curve of his lips still swollen from our kiss.

My mind and heart are awash with a complicated mixture of emotions—joy, excitement, and an undeniable undercurrent of fear. Our connection is growing stronger with each passing day, each shared laugh, each tender touch. I want to lose myself in it, to let it consume me entirely, but I can't shake the nagging reminder our time together is fleeting.

"You're thinking too loud." Miles teases. He reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

I lean into his touch, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "Occupational hazard, I'm afraid. Overthinking is my specialty."

He chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly across my cheekbone. "Well, as a fellow overthinker, I prescribe a healthy dose of living in the moment. Doctor's orders."

"Oh, so you're a doctor now, too?"

"Yep. I have this $500 framed piece of paper to prove it."

I think about what I just said before laughing out loud. "Shit. Wait. You are a doctor but not that kind of doctor."

Miles grins and shrugs his shoulders. "Tomato. Avocado."

"That makes sense in your mind, doesn't it?" I shake my head.