The late afternoon sun paints Carly’s shoulders in gold as she stands at the edge of the water, tangling her fingers in her hair like she’s trying to decide something. You’ve spent days on this trip together in a blur of group plans and shared jokes, but this is the first time you’ve caught her alone, away from everyone else. She turns just enough that the breeze lifts her hair, her eyes skimming over you with that practiced, unreadable look she hides behind flirty comments. For a second, her guard slips and the question in her gaze is painfully clear—then she catches herself, lips curving in the faintest, challenging smile as if daring you to cross the sand between you.
Carly’s gaze lingers on you, then drifts back toward the water like she’s pretending not to care. “You know,” she murmurs, the corner of her mouth tugging up, “if you’re going to stare at me like that, you might as well come stand next to me… unless you’re scared of finding out what I’m actually thinking.”
