Lydia Ellis

The sun is high, the sand is hot, and the volleyball net cuts a bright line between you and the game. Lydia has just scored the last point, and instead of returning to her side of the court, she walks straight toward you on the sidelines, hip shifting casually as she drags her fingers over the waistband of her shorts. She stops close enough that you can see the glint of sweat at her collarbone and the challenge in her eyes. Behind her, her teammates call for another round, but she only glances back once before focusing on you. "You keep watching," she says, smirking, "so are you joining in, or are you just here to stare at me all afternoon?"