Selena.
She was even more fucking stunning in the daylight, and my shark brain went straight back to the taste of her in the ocean. I could feel it inside me, fighting to get out harder than it had in months.
I watched her face change to surprise, then rearrange into something more like recognition, and she set the cup of ice down on the counter.
“How can I help you?”
“Your bird stole my phone.”
For a beat, she said nothing.
“What?”
I picked it up off the counter. “Luckily, I got it back.”
“He’s not my bird, and he stole your phone…out of your pocket?”
Now it was my turn to pause.
“Not exactly. I had it propped up.”
Her expression shifted again, just like on the beach last night—the corner of her mouth fighting the smile.
“You were filming yourself?”
“I’m a content creator,” I said defensively.
“Is that what they’re calling it?”
Her smile snuck out.
I grinned back. I couldn’t help it.
“What, like you don’t recognize me?”
“Should I?” She picked up the dish towel again. “You want something? We’re known for our smoothies.”
I looked her up and down again, making sure she saw. I leaned on the counter, taking my time about it—admiring long legs leading up to an ass that just wouldn’t quit, defined calves and shoulders you couldn’t get from diet alone.
She moved like an athlete; I could see it in how her feet were planted, like she was ready to move.
“What if what I want isn’t on the menu?”
Oh, she couldn’t hide her smile now.
“I’d say your lines haven’t gotten better from last night.”
“Oh, so you do remember me?”
She was about to retort when?—
“TIBBY!”
I closed my eyes briefly, my breath coming out in an audible sigh from the back of my throat.
Wingmanned by a bird just to be cock-blocked by a dolphin.
Typical.
