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Except, of course, he’s not there. It’s an important tidbit I will never reveal.

“Adam’s shooting a music video here?” Sophia shields her eyes from the sun and scans Hanalei Bay. It’s a white-sand beach inlet with mossy mountains rising in the background, one of the prettiest places on the island.

“Yep,” I say as I make my way to my favorite spot.

“Where?” She slaps her thighs, appearing frustrated when she doesn’t see any supporting evidence.

“Maybe they haven’t set up yet.” I drop my backpack on the sand beneath a koa tree. Once I remove my shirt and toss it aside, I kick off my shoes.

She freezes. “What are you doing?”

“Going swimming. What else are we going to do while we wait?” I stretch my arms, a little excited about a day off. I walk toward the bay but then turn back to find Sophia milling around like she’s lost.

“If you need sunscreen,” I tell her, “it’s in my bag, along with the towels and my baseball cap.”

Leaving her to fend for herself, I wade into the warm water. The hurricane has pulled the rough surf away from the island, making the waters calmer than normal. When I’m deep enough, I dive in and then come up for air. I slick back my soaked hair and wipe the salt water from my eyes.

Back on the beach, Sophia isn’t hard to spot. She’s sitting with a towel draped over her head and shoulders. Another towel covers her legs. She looks like a pile of laundry. Even from here, I can tell she’s pouting. I can’t help but laugh, which means there’s no chance I’m leaving her alone.

“You scared to come in, Sparkles?” I say when the tide pulls me closer to the beach.

When she ignores me, I try again. “You’ll still be able to see your beloved boyfriend from the ocean.” I gesture to the wide stretch of beach, suggesting the view is better from this vantage point.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she grumbles.

But when she glances around as if she’s undecided about joining me, I get it. Me alone with her is stupid dangerous. Inviting her to swim could seal my fate. Death by Sophia attack. She’s a confirmed biter. I still have the teeth marks to prove it.

“You could give me his number, you know? That would make this easier,” she hollers.

It would be a completely valid option if I wanted her to have his number, which I don’t, so here we are.

“I asked for the number,” I fib. “My mutual acquaintance with Adam isn’t willing to give his number to random ex-girlfriends.” This part is not a lie.

Sophia stands then, allowing the towel to fall away. She yanks her dress over her head, revealing a white bikini. Watching this is like unwrapping a gift. She’s soft and beautiful and, oh my God, I can’t tear my gaze away.

When she nears, I notice the tiny pink heart pattern and the ruffles at the edges of her suit. They line her hips, the cup of her bra, and the roundness of her ass.

It’s so fucking cute.

I duck underwater to cool my head. It’s the only way I’ll make it through this day. Admiring her has become its own type of torture.

I can look but never touch.

Except the fact that I have touched her and can’t anymore makes this worse. By the time I emerge for air, Sophia is bobbing in the water nearby.

“Can you tell your mutual acquaintance,” she signs air quotes, “to text Adam my info so he can decide if he wants to chat?” She side-eyes me like this could be another one of my pranks.

“Already done,” I say, even though there’s no chance of that ever happening. I don’t even feel guilty. If anything, I’m triumphant. I’m learning I can’t control the unexplained need to protect Sophia. I only have the willpower to act on it. Shamelessly.

“Fine.” She breaststrokes away from me, toward the pier.

“What’s so great about Adam, anyway?” I ask as I swim beside her.

“You know him, so you get it, right?” She smiles like she’s thinking about the guy, which makes me wonder if we’re even talking about the same person.

No, I don’t get it.

If I clue her in to the truth, that he’s a verifiable jackoff, she may kick me out of the bungalow. If she’d even listen to me, which she probably wouldn’t. I’m not exactly on her good side.