To make it up, Liam gently sets the ball for Mel instead of smashing it, and she actually takes the shot.
“Hey!” Noah and Ryan yell at the same time. “You’re on our side!”
Noah plays steady and focused, but when he sends the ball over, I catch it clean and hit it back. It lands just inside the crooked line we dragged into the sand.
“That’s out,” Noah says immediately.
“It was in,” Kiara argues.
“No it wasn’t.”
“You just don’t like losing.”
“Excuse you—”
“Point to the girls!” Liam yells, clearly enjoying the chaos.
We win the first round and collapse into the sand in a sweaty, laughing pile. The boys win the second round— unfortunately—but before they can celebrate too much we’re already starting the third.
We’re running, shouting, tripping over the uneven sand, and I think if this were a movie scene, “August” by Taylor Swift would be playing.
At one point I sprint for the ball, barely reaching it before Ryan appears out of nowhere, grabbing my waist to stop me from catching it.
“Got you,” he says, breathless, but I manage to still catch it and toss the ball blindly over my shoulder toward Mel.
“Hit it!” I yell.
Ryan lets go instantly and spins back toward the net, but it’s too late. Mel smacks the ball clean over, and it lands untouched. Game over.
Kiara screams, “YES!”
We burst into laughter while the boys groan dramatically.
“Champions! Champions!” Mel, Kiara, and I chant.
The guys wipe their foreheads, pretending they’re totally fine with losing even though they are absolutely not.
We drop back onto our towels, while the beach fills up like half the town had the exact same idea. Music drifts across the sand. Laughter carries through the warm evening air.
I’ve just taken a sip of my drink when I see Jacob. He’s walking straight toward me. And immediately, my mind flashes back to the moment outside the shop—his hand grabbing my wrist.
Something tightens in my stomach. And before I can even think about it, my feet start moving. Toward Ryan.
He’s sitting in a folding chair a few yards away, legs stretched out, a beer bottle dangling loosely from one hand while he talks with a couple of guys from his class.
What am I doing?
Why are my feet not stopping?
“Hey, babe,” I say when I reach them. “Hi guys.”
His classmates nod and smile in greeting. Ryan looks up at me, a small crease forming between his brows, like he can tell I’m about to do something questionable. “Hey, babe—”
And before I can talk myself out of it, I step closer and slide straight onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His entire body goes still under me. “Maddy,” he says, low and surprised.
I lean in, my mouth close to his ear. “Is this okay?” I whisper. “Jacob’s here.”
