‌“All right, love birds, we want this to be fun and not take up too much of your time today, and hopefully not end with Derek’s nose pouring blood and Nora passing out,” says Kamaya, with a little laugh. I can’t help but laugh too because the embarrassment has worn off and now I’m just left with a great anecdotal story for a party. “So we were thinking it would be fun to snap some candid photos of you two playing together on the beach. Sound easy?” says Kamaya, smiling happily to us, barefoot in the sand right next to the ever-quiet Alec.‌

But no. It does not sound easy. And up until this moment, I didn’t allow myself to think about being photographed. I’m not just being modest when I say I don’t take good photos. The moment a lens is pointed in my direction, I forget how to act like a human. My shoulders go rigid, and I sweat, and my smile looks more akin to a predator with rabies. I’ve been this way my entire life and I wonder if Derek remembers. My social media is all artful photos of my hand holding a coffee mug or my feet in snuggly socks. Everyone assumes it’s because I’m trying to be mysterious and creative. No. It’s because I look like a clown popping out in a haunted house when the camera finds me.

“Why don’t you guys go stand over there, just in front of the waves, and do that sort of lovey-dovey gaze you were giving each other on the boat yesterday.”

Derek and I glance at each other and our expressions are a mirror image: We were giving lovey-dovey gazes? But more important, my brain fixates on: He was giving me a lovey-dovey gaze? More and more signs are pointing toward Derek having feelings for me. And here’s the problem, I absolutely have feelings for him. That shouldn’t feel like a shock since part of me has never stopped loving Derek. But there’s a difference between having always loved a man you knew as your younger self, and really liking the man you know now on top of that. It’s dangerous. It potentially complicates everything.

Derek and I begin walking down toward the water when Kamaya’s voice stops us. “Oh uh—sorry to be awkward, guys, but…” She gives an apologetic smile. “Mind losing the cover-up and shirt?”

Oh my gosh.

Not only did I not consider that I’d have to be photographed this week, but I also did not consider that I’d be photographed in my swimsuit that will be put in a magazine! Cool. Great. Fun.

“Righty-o, Captain,” I say. “But only on one condition. You see, I have cellulite on the backs of my legs and stretch marks on my inner thighs—”

“Oh, don’t worry! We’ll edit all that out.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I have cellulite and I don’t want it edited out. If you’re going to put my body in a magazine, I want it to be mine. I want women to see it and see themselves in the photo too.” Another thing my mom taught me: Love your body—it works hard for you every day of your life.

“Huh,” she says, and I can’t decide if she’s impressed by me or already dreading the team of men she’s going to have to stand up to on my behalf when they try to airbrush me within an inch of my life. “I love that, Nora. You have a deal.”

“Thank you.” I nod and then whip off my cover-up and lay it on the beach chair. I set my hat on top of it and then remove my hairband and set my hair loose. I run my fingers through it a few times in hopes that it looks like effortless beach crinkles and not a raccoon who just climbed out of a dumpster. And then I turn around.

Derek is staring at me.

Like staring staring. His eyes unashamedly run over every inch of my pink-bikini-clad body. Which listen, I like my body. She’s a good body and it’s taken me years to come to terms with the fact that I can love her even if the media tells me she’s not up to the standards they expect. I simply don’t care anymore because I’m happy in my skin and I refuse to spend my days hating it because some person back in the day decided I should have a tiny waist, a big booty, and huge breasts. My body is soft and squishy in places and flat in others, and it’s perfect for me.

But the way Derek is looking at me right now makes me feel as if my body is the standard all other bodies should be judged against. Like mine is his ticket to eternal happiness. Like I am a freaking goddess—and I realize no one has ever appreciated my body quite like Derek.

I’m sure every inch of me is turning as pink as my bikini under his gaze. He’s not supposed to be looking at me like that. We’re supposed to be married, for god’s sake! He needs to appear at least a little immune to me by now. Instead, he looks like if I step any closer, he’s going to take a bite out of me.

He drags his eyes back up to my face, and it takes him a second to snap back to reality before he reaches his hands behind his head and tugs his shirt off his so, so fine body. And now it’s my turn to drown in a pool of desire. I rake my eyes over his strong physique and admire not only the shape but the hard work and determination it’s taken him to get to this place. His tan skin is already glistening with a nice sheen of sweat, highlighting his massive shoulders and defined pecs. He’s all hefty brawn and ropy muscle. A warm breeze rolls off the ocean and tousles his hair. The man not only has glorious abs but a stack of fully visible oblique muscles down the sides of his torso, and…

Wait.

He runs his hand through his hair, exposing his inner bicep. My eyes snag on that little black tattoo I’ve never been granted a good look at. And for the first time I’m able to identify that one blot of ink tucked secretly inside his arm. It’s a single letter.

N.

It might as well be tattooed in neon glowing letters for how my attention zeroes in on it.

Derek sees me inspecting it, but this time, he doesn’t try to hide it. “Are you ready?” he asks after a moment, slowly dropping his arm and pulling my attention to his face. He nods at the ocean.

Behind us I hear Kamaya whisper to Alec about how we look like we’re about to rip each other’s swimsuits off right here on the beach. Derek hears them too and glances down at me with an almost apologetic smile.

When we get down to the water, Derek and I turn to face each other, and that’s when I make the mistake of looking at Alec. I see the harrowing lens aimed at our faces and the panic sets in. I try to smile at Derek. It feels stale.

“Um…” Alec lowers the camera. “Nora, maybe try shaking out your arms really quick.”

I do except that doesn’t help. I’m just hyperaware of my arms now. I’m a Betty Spaghetty doll from the ’90s and my arms are long limp noodles.

Kamaya jumps in to help. “Just…breathe out a smile, Nora, and maybe put your hand on Derek’s chest, like you’re leaning in to kiss him.”

It’s possible I’m moving in slow motion as I lift my hand and lay it on the hard lines of Derek’s bare chest. My hand settles against his warmth and I’m set on fire. “This isn’t working, Derek,” I say, yanking my arm back. “I can’t do it. I’m feeling more awkward than the time I ordered at Starbucks and then realized I had a tampon wrapper stuck to the front of my shirt the whole exchange.” Truly it was the barista taking my order who looked the most awkward. Poor guy. “We both know I can’t take a good picture to save my—”

Derek’s arms suddenly snag around my waist and he tugs me up flush with him, so tightly that my back bends when I look up at his face. All of me is pressing against all of him and I can’t breathe. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean. “Stop thinking so much and have some fun with me, Nora.”

I think maybe he’s going to kiss me until suddenly he bends down even lower and scoops my legs out from under me, carrying me out into the water.

“Derek!” I squeal and kick. “I can’t swim yet! I don’t have my sunscreen on!” It’s not even a fake excuse. I can’t be in the sun long without protection or we’ll need a fire extinguisher to stop the burns.

I manage to kick and wiggle myself out of his grip, landing on my feet with the waves only around my ankles. I don’t waste a second before I take off, slogging my way through the water and sand—aiming for my bag with sunscreen up on the beach chair, but really just trying to run from the unhinged joy overtaking me. I’m feeling…scared again. Scared to care for someone so much. Scared to recognize a definite shift between us. Scared that I’ll mess it up—or he’ll mess up, and either way we’ll end up heartbroken when my career was just starting to go where I wanted it to.

But also…What if nothing bad happens? What if…it’s just wonderful?

I glance over my shoulder and Derek is running after me. His long lean lines and structured muscles flexing with every step. “Get back here,” he yells, and I trip my way up the sandy beach, laughing too hard to really run. It takes Derek all of two seconds to catch me. He loops his arms around my waist and carefully tackles me to the ground, taking the brunt of the fall.

I wriggle around laughing until we’re face-to-face, him lying atop me, but his forearm and legs taking most of his weight.

He pushes my hair back from my face and then cups the back of my neck. “You’re fast. Ever consider a career in football?” he says with a dimpling smile, leaving me dizzy.

Nothing about this feels fake.

“I wouldn’t want to show anyone up.” “So kind of you.”

Distantly I’m aware that Alec is snapping photos of us, and hot sand is stuck to the backs of my arms and legs. I’ll be rinsing it from my hair for weeks, but for once, I really can’t bring myself to care about anything outside of this moment. Outside of Derek looking in my eyes—his body heavy over mine.

The grains of sand turn into glitter. It’s all magic.

“We’re in public,” he says, quiet enough for only me to hear. “Fair to kiss you?”

My stomach twirls. “Absolutely fair.”

But apparently he didn’t mean on the mouth because he responds by leaning down and touching his lips to my collarbone. I suck in a breath from the shock of tingles that flood my system.

“I’m glad you told them they’re not allowed to airbrush your images.” He lingers there and nips at the stringy strap of my bikini like he can’t resist. “Because smoothing away any part of your gorgeous body would be a travesty.”

Oh my.

My body is putty under the feel of his lips—my skin is so sensitive. He might just be putting on a show for Alec, but I don’t think he is. Either way, my core is molten and I’m unable to care about anything other than sinking my fingers into the back of his gold-kissed brown hair. I pull my knee up, laying my foot flat against the sand, and almost automatically Derek’s hand goes to that outer thigh.

Alec’s camera frantically clicks now and the sun just behind Derek’s head is so bright I have to shut my eyes. It’s bliss. Pure bliss.

“Derek. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Anything.” He kisses my other collarbone, making it very difficult to focus on my words.

“Is that a letter N tattoo on your arm?”

He pulls away enough to look at me. The waves crash below us, and the sun behind his head is nearly blinding when I stare into his eyes. His blue rivals the sky.

“Yes,” he says simply.

Huge monarch butterflies launch through my stomach. “And…would that N be for…Nora?”

His jaws flex before a lazy grin hits his mouth. That hand of his slides up my bent knee and down the top of my thigh—a professional skier on a treacherous slope. He studies my lips and I think I’ll remember this moment

and the way the sun feels and the waves break and the look of utter affection I see in Derek’s eyes for the rest of my life.

“Yes,” he says. “I got it for you.”

Stunned doesn’t begin to describe me. “But…when?”

He drops his head again and breathes against the skin of my neck and ear. “The week after we broke up. Or more specifically—the day after you saw me kiss that woman outside my apartment.”

“Why? Especially after the way I hurt you? Why would you get my initial?”

“Because regardless of how it ended, I needed a way to prove it existed.” He says the words just above my mouth. “I was scared of forgetting what we had. The tattoo was a way to admit to myself that you were important to me and would always be a part of me no matter how much time passed.”

I don’t know what to say. How to express that my heart feels simultaneously heavy and light. And he doesn’t make me find the words either.

Derek’s thumb traces up my jaw to tease the corner of my lips before his head lowers, mouth finally covering mine. My body exhales.

I hear the faint clicking of Alec’s camera a few times before it stops completely. Alec whispers loudly to Kamaya that they should give us some privacy.

Probably because this is not a sweet kiss. Not like the accidental brush of lips we exchanged in Derek’s kitchen. From the second his mouth covers mine, it’s consuming. It’s years and years of longing, and missing, and needing.

I wrap my arms around his neck and tug more of his body weight onto me because I want him there. Need him there. His hand moves to cradle the back of my neck so he can tilt my face for a better angle. When he lightly licks my bottom lip asking for permission, it undoes me. I open my mouth, and his tongue sweeps over mine, sending white-hot desire striking through my core. I run my hands down his hard back, reveling in the gritty texture of sand mixed with sweat. I take his bottom lip between my teeth and then

suck it into my mouth. Derek groans and I’m desperate for more of that sound. I want all of it. I want to see the man unravel completely and know that I’m the one who did that to him.

Except I don’t get more because a second later, Kamaya is somewhere nearby clearing her throat. “Um. So sorry, you two. But I feel obligated to tell you that you’re garnering a bit more attention than you’d probably like.”

Derek tears his mouth away and looks up toward the top of the beach where sure enough, there’s a few people cupping their hands over their brows to give them a sun-shielded view of us. “Shit. I’m sorry, Nora. That was…”

“Incredible,” I say, touching his face so he knows I don’t regret it. I don’t regret one second of it.