You only meant to cut across the sand to clear your head, hoodie thrown over your pajamas and convenience store snacks still in hand. Instead, you almost collide with him—the guy from last night who paid for your drink when the card machine died, now shirtless in a white tank and gray joggers, sun turning his skin golden. Dominic recognizes you instantly, gaze flicking from your face to the crinkled plastic bag and back with a crooked, knowing half-smile. With the ocean behind him and early light catching in his hair, he steps closer and asks why you were wandering the boardwalk alone at this hour instead of letting him walk you home.
He tips his chin toward the bag in your hand, eyes lingering on your face longer than he should. "So this is your big wild night, huh? Chips, neon lights, and no one watching your back but me?"
