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She laughs, a soft huff that dances across the evening air. "Where do I start? The paparazzi hiding in my bushes or the fact that my last relationship made me feel like I was just another accessory to be shown off?"
I grunt in understanding, my fists clenching at the thought of anyone using her like that. "Sounds like the guy was a grade-A asshole."
"He was," she agrees, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "But it's more than that. It's... losing myself, you know? Becoming what everyone else wants instead of who I really am."
The raw honesty in her voice slices through me. She's laying it all out there—her fears, her scars—just like I did. And damn if that doesn't make me respect her even more.
"You're one of the strongest people I've ever met, Sasha," I say, meaning every word. "Anyone who tries to dim your light is in for a hell of a fight."
Her smile in response isn't just grateful, it's relieved. Like she's been holding her breath waiting for someone to see her for who she truly is.
We sit in silence for a while, the kind that's comfortable rather than awkward. It's strange how two people with such different lives can find common ground on a pebble-lined shore under the stars.
"Thank you," she whispers after a moment, leaning into me so subtly it might as well be an accident.
For what? For doing my job? For sitting here with her? There are too many possible answers and not enough words.
Instead of speaking, I wrap an arm around her shoulders—a protective gesture that feels as natural as breathing. She fits against me like she's meant to be there, and for a wild second, I imagine what it would be like if this was our normal.
But hell, life isn't a fairytale, and we're just two people with more baggage than an airport carousel.
"You don't have to thank me," I finally murmur into the silence between us. "We've all got demons. Might as well face them together."
I chuckle, the sound getting swallowed up by the crash of the waves. "You know, for a pop star, you're not half bad at this whole 'being human' thing."
Sasha rolls her eyes, but I catch the corners of her mouth twitching up. "Gee, thanks, Creed. I'll take that as a compliment, coming from Mr. 'I-Can-Kill-You-With-a-Thought.'"
Her jab hits its mark, and I playfully narrow my eyes at her. "Careful there, or I might just have to show you a move or two."
She stands up, brushing sand from her legs, and takes a step closer. "Promise?"
The air shifts between us, heavy with something more than just banter. I can feel the pull—an invisible thread tugging me towards her with an urgency that's damn near impossible to resist.
"Is that a challenge?" My voice drops lower, rough with desire I can't cloak.
"Maybe." Her voice is a whisper but it rings loud in my ears. There's a dare in her eyes, a fire that matches my own.
I stand up to meet her gaze fully, closing the distance until we're inches apart. "You've got guts," I admit, and there's respect laced through every word.
She tips her chin up defiantly. "You've got issues."
I snort because she's not wrong. "Never claimed otherwise."
The tension coils tighter between us, a live wire sparking with the possibility of what could happen if we let it.
Then I say screw it.
My hand slides around her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her breath hitches, and there's no mistaking the look in her eyes now—raw desire that mirrors my own. I can feel the heat of her body seeping through her thin sundress, igniting a fire beneath my skin.
"I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you again," I confess, my voice low and rough with need. My lips hover over hers, close enough to feel her rapid breaths mingling with mine.
"And here I thought you were all business," she teases back, but her voice is breathy, laced with anticipation.
"All business goes out the window when it comes to you," I growl, my hand tangling in her hair, tilting her head back slightly. "You're the only thing that matters right now."
And then, I close the remaining distance, our lips finally colliding in an electrifying kiss. The contact feels like a bolt of lightning straight to my core. Her lips are soft, pliant, molding perfectly to mine as if they were made for this moment.
I deepen the kiss, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. She parts them with a soft moan, and I delve inside, tasting her, consuming her. It's intoxicating, the way she responds to me, her tongue dancing with mine in a sensual rhythm that sends my blood rushing south.
