Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Kiera
The sun beat down on the sand, warm and relentless, though their cluster of umbrellas provided some much-needed shade. Kiera stretched out on a lounge chair, her wide-brimmed straw hat tilted low over her face as she sipped from a can of sparkling water. Around her, Maggie and Danica had settled into the same lazy rhythm, chatting or half-dozing as the waves rolled in a steady, hypnotic rhythm.
Pete and Izzy, predictably, couldn’t sit still. A few yards away, they tossed a frisbee back and forth with a couple of guys who had wandered over, eager to join in. The men were the typical San Diego beach type — sun-kissed skin, tousled hair, an effortless cool to their movements. Kiera barely paid them any mind, more focused on applying sunscreen to her legs, making sure to get every inch.
Maggie, stretched out beside her under the umbrella, let out an amused sigh. “Do you think Izzy and Pete realize they’re being flirted with?”
Kiera glanced over at them, watching as one of the guys laughed a little too enthusiastically at something Izzy said, brushing his hand through his hair in a way that was painfully obvious. Oblivious to her admirer's attempts, Pete remained engrossed in her world, showcasing her expert frisbee skills with sniper-like precision.
“Nope,” Kiera replied, smirking. “Not even a little.”
Danica, lying on a towel beside them, adjusted her sunglasses. “It’s honestly painful to watch. That guy is literally flexing every time he throws the frisbee.”
“I respect the dedication,” Maggie murmured, taking a sip from her bottle of water. “Even if it’s wildly ineffective.”
Kiera chuckled, leaning back against her chair. It was nice, the easy camaraderie of the moment. No silent grudges, no awkwardness. Just a group of friends enjoying the kind of afternoon that felt endless and golden, the kind of day that was meant to be tucked away for safekeeping.
Danica propped herself up on her elbows, nodding toward the group still playing. “I swear, if Pete catches that frisbee mid-air one more time, that guy’s going to propose on the spot.”
Maggie snorted. “I give it ten minutes before he starts asking her if she surfs.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Danica agreed. “The other one’s going to turn to Izzy and say, ‘You ever try paddle boarding at sunset? Changed my life.’ ” She dipped her voice lower into a silly imitation of a frat bro.
Kiera laughed, adjusting her hat. “Please. Izzy will be the one who ends up lecturing him about ocean pollution and the carbon footprint of beach tourism.”
Maggie grinned. “You’ve gotten that lecture, too? I don’t know, some people could be wooed by that sort of talk.”
Kiera hesitated just a beat too long before replying, “I mean… it’s not not attractive.”
Danica raised an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. “Oh?”
Kiera groaned, tossing her empty soda bottle toward the cooler. “Don’t start.”
“Too late,” Maggie sing-songed. “I saw you at the bar last night. Kiera’s got a cru-ush.”
“I do not.” Kiera grabbed her book and opened it dramatically. “I just appreciate passionate environmental rants. Like any sane person.”
“Sure,” Danica said. “And I only watch Outlander for the gorgeous period-appropriate costumes.”
Maggie laughed. “It’s okay, Kier. You could have worse hypothetical taste in women. Izzy’s cute.”
Kiera peeked over her book, eyes on Izzy again — the way her short blonde hair bounced when she ran for the frisbee, the way her smile was wide and easy as if carried on the sea breeze. “Yeah,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “She kind of is.”
Danica made a humming sound of interest, and Kiera knew that she’d never live this down. Her friends were like vultures, circling their next meal.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kiera saw a frisbee soaring through the air, an errant throw. One of the guys, of course, had miscalculated his angle. Kiera barely had time to register its trajectory before it smacked directly into Maggie’s face with a sickening thwack.
There was a stunned moment of silence, interrupted only by a loud, “Fuck!” Maggie clutched her nose, doubling over, her voice muffled through her hands.
Danica moved to kneel in front of Maggie, her face going full professional-in-crisis mode. “Shit, Maggie! Let me see.”
Pete and Izzy abandoned the frisbee game, rushing over, the guys trailing behind them, looking appropriately horrified.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the guy who threw it stammered, his tan face turning pale.
Maggie pulled her hands away, revealing a trickle of blood running down toward her lips. Her nose was already swelling, an alarming shade of red.
“Does it look broken?” Maggie asked, her voice nasally, which was probably not a great sign.
Danica leaned in, examining her with a clinical focus. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”
Maggie groaned, grabbing a towel Pete was handing her. “Of course it is. Because what’s a trip with you guys if I don’t sustain at least one major injury?”
Kiera exchanged a look with Izzy, who was biting her lip with an unreadable expression, unsure whether she was concerned or about to laugh, or both.
“Should we take her to the ER?” Pete asked, glancing at Danica.
Danica sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Yeah, she should get it checked out. They might need to set it.”
Maggie groaned louder. “I hate this. I hate this trip. I hate frisbees. I hate men.”
The guilty frisbee guy took a step back, looking like he wanted to melt into the sand.
Izzy finally lost it, letting out a snort of laughter. “Okay, yeah, but to be fair, you’ve always hated men.”
Maggie pointed at her with a bloody hand. “That’s not the point , Izzy.”
Kiera sighed, already standing up. “Alright, let’s get you to a doctor before you start cursing all recreational sports.”
Maggie muttered something under her breath about burning every frisbee in existence, but let Danica and Kiera help her to her feet, wobbling slightly.
The two men were still lingering, looking like they wanted to help but not sure if they should. The one who threw the frisbee shuffled forward, clearing his throat. “Uh, can I — can I do anything?”
Maggie, deadpan, stared at him over her blood-streaked hands. “You can leave .”
Kiera bit back a smile as the guy mumbled another apology and stumbled in the sand to flee.
“Well,” Pete mused as they started gathering their things, “at least we’ll always have this beautiful memory of Pacific Beach.”
“Make sure you get a photo. You can put it in the scrapbook,” Maggie grumbled.
Kiera patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. We will.”
Danica helped Maggie shuffle toward the house, still holding a bloodied towel to her nose and muttering about her hatred for frisbees and men. Kiera, Izzy, and Pete carried their beach bags and chairs, while Danica lectured Maggie on not tilting her head back, her doctor-mode fully activated.
“We’ll text when we know something,” Danica called over her shoulder before sliding into the driver’s seat of the rental car parked in the driveway.
And just like that, they were gone, leaving Kiera and Izzy alone, the sound of the waves and distant chatter of other beachgoers settling between them.
“Well, should we go try to relax until they come back?” Izzy suggested.
Kiera glanced back toward the beach, where their own umbrellas and chairs still sat. “Might as well.” They walked back down into the sand, an awkward silence stretching between them that hadn’t been there that morning on their walk.
Izzy didn’t sit back down. Instead, she busied herself with brushing sand off her chair, adjusting her sunglasses, and brushing nonexistent flecks off her Patagonia shorts. Kiera noticed how Izzy kept her body angled away, almost like she was trying to physically avoid looking at her.
Ever since the tide pools, Izzy had been acting… off. Not just distant, but weirdly avoidant. Normally, Izzy was blunt — if she had a problem, she’d say it, not dance around it. But now, it felt like there was an invisible ocean between them.
Kiera sighed, settling back into her chair. “You’re being weird.”
Izzy, still standing, tensed slightly. “What? No, I’m not.”
Kiera tilted her head, squinting at her through her prescription sunglasses. “Yeah, you are.”
Izzy huffed out a small laugh, but it sounded forced. “I’m literally acting normal.”
“You’ve barely looked at me since we got back from the tide pools this morning.”
Izzy paused, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her towel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
Kiera arched a brow. “So you’re saying you didn’t full-body flinch when I asked you a question at lunch?”
Izzy rolled her shoulders in a shrug, finally dropping back into her chair with a sigh. She pulled on a baseball cap, obscuring part of her face. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired.”
Kiera studied her for a long moment, debating whether to push or let it go. She didn’t want to let it go, though. Not when the morning had been so easy between them.
She leaned forward in her low beach chair, resting her arms on her knees. “Is this about me? Did I do something? Did you get offended when I said you were cute?”
Izzy stiffened just slightly. “No,” she muttered.
Kiera narrowed her eyes. “You are lying.”
Izzy exhaled sharply through her nose, tilting her face up toward the sky like she was praying to the Sun God for patience. “Kiera. You didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Kiera searched Izzy’s expression, the set of her jaw, the way she kept picking at the hem of her shorts. It was like Izzy was holding something back. Kiera swallowed hard and leaned back again, feigning casualness in her tone, even as something tight curled in her chest. “Fine. Whatever.”
Izzy didn’t respond. She just lay back on her towel, crossing her arms behind her head like she was completely unbothered, even though Kiera could feel the awkwardness radiating off her.
And that was it. The conversation ended, the silence stretching between them, filled only by the sounds of others on the beach shouting, laughing, playing, and rhythmic crash of the ocean waves.
Kiera crossed her arms and forced herself to look anywhere but at Izzy. The ocean, the sky, the joggers passing by on the packed sand — literally anything to keep her from noticing the way Izzy’s legs stretched out, sighing as she finally seemed to settle.
Izzy pulled a book from her bag, some fantasy novel with a dragon and a sword on the cover. Kiera should’ve known better than to look up at Izzy’s face. But she did.
Izzy, with her sun-kissed skin and tousled blonde hair, turned her baseball cap backward on her head, pushing her sunglasses up her nose before flipping the paperback open. She held it casually in one hand, her fingers resting lightly against the pages as she shifted onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. Izzy’s barely perceptible frown, the minimal movement of her lips while reading, and the absentminded scratching of her shoulder captivated Kiera.
She’d always thought Izzy was attractive. Objectively, Izzy was the kind of effortlessly cool that Kiera had never been. But this? There was something unbearably hot about the way Izzy read. Something about the ease of it, the casual confidence of a person completely absorbed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. She licked the tip of her finger to turn the page, brow twitching slightly as she concentrated, and Kiera had to drag her eyes away, biting the inside of her cheek.
Kiera cleared her throat and turned toward the water, willing herself to think about anything other than Izzy’s fingers against the soft, worn pages. Or the way the sunlight traced over the line of her jaw.
Kiera forced her gaze out toward the horizon, pretending she was deeply fascinated by the waves rolling in. Act normal, Kiera. Get it together.,
“What?” Izzy asked, her tone light. Her voice held a hint of hesitation, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Izzy shifted, glancing at her over the top of her sunglasses, her lips quirking into something almost — shy? No, that wasn’t right. Izzy didn’t do shy. Stoic, at her most quiet, but never shy.
Kiera’s stomach flipped. Great. Izzy caught her staring. Now she looked like a creep.
“Nothing,” Kiera responded quickly, but the way her voice squeaked with surprise probably gave her away.
Izzy raised an eyebrow, looking as if she was holding back a laugh. “Right…” she said slowly.
Kiera scrambled for a reasonable excuse. “I — I was just thinking about, um, sunscreen.”
Izzy blinked. “Sunscreen.”
“Yeah,” Kiera rushed out, nodding way too fast. “Like, if I should reapply. You know, UV rays and all that. I don’t want to pull a Pete and get sunburnt.”
Izzy just stared at her for a beat. Then, with a small shake of her head, she turned back to her book, clearly deciding not to question the nonsense that had just come out of Kiera’s mouth.
Kiera exhaled, dragging a hand down her face, feeling even more ridiculous.
Izzy flipped another page, shifting slightly. “You should probably reapply,” she murmured absently, eyes still on the text.
Kiera swallowed hard, suddenly feeling too warm, and reached blindly for her bag. Anything to give her hands something to do. She fumbled with the sunscreen bottle, nearly dropping it into the sand as she twisted the cap off.
She squeezed a dollop onto her palm and started rubbing it into her arms with way too much concentration. She could feel Izzy beside her, still reading, still entirely herself, completely unaware of the ridiculous state Kiera had worked herself into.
Izzy let out a small sigh and set her book down, tilting her head to look at Kiera. “Do you want me to get your back?”
Kiera’s brain stalled. She turned toward Izzy too quickly. Izzy looked at her with a perfectly neutral expression, like she’d just asked her if she wanted water. Like this wasn’t a thing.
And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was only a thing in Kiera’s head.
“Oh,” Kiera said, voice coming out a little too high. “You don’t have to…”
Izzy rolled her eyes, already reaching for the sunscreen. “You’ll burn if you miss a spot. Just turn around.”
Kiera hesitated for a second before obeying, shifting so her back was to Izzy, her pulse suddenly too loud in her ears.
Izzy’s hands were warm when they touched her shoulders, spreading the cool sunscreen in slow, careful movements. Her fingertips pressed firmly but gently, gliding over Kiera’s shoulder blades, down the line of her spine, then sweeping outward again.
Kiera clenched her jaw, staring at the ocean like her life depended on it.
It was just a friend helping a friend avoid melanoma. Nothing more. Kiera shouldn’t want to read into the way Izzy’s hands felt on her bare skin, how they dipped under the shoulder strap of her bikini top, then lower. She wasn’t aware a shoulder blade could even be an erogenous zone until Izzy’s thumb traced the soft curve.
Izzy’s hands smoothed lower, following her ribcage out toward the sides of her waist. Kiera squeezed her eyes shut, her skin tingling in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with sun exposure.
“There,” Izzy said after what felt like an eternity, giving her shoulder a quick pat before pulling away. “You’re good.”
Kiera let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, turning back around with what she hoped was a casual nod. “Thanks,” she said, her voice only slightly strained.
Izzy was already reaching for her book again, like the whole thing had been an average day-at-the-beach experience. Like it wasn’t currently short-circuiting Kiera’s entire nervous system.
Kiera picked up her water bottle and took a long, desperate sip, willing herself to get a goddamn grip.
Kiera twisted the cap back onto the sunscreen bottle, still feeling the lingering heat where Izzy’s hands had been. She needed to say something — anything — to shake off the weird energy building between them.
She cleared her throat. “Do you think Maggie will be okay?”
Izzy didn’t look up from her book. “Yeah. Probably.”
Kiera paused at the noncommittal response. “I mean, she seemed in good spirits when she left, but you know how she is. Always brushing things off like they’re no big deal.”
Izzy exhaled, still not looking at her. “I’m glad Danica is with her. And at least Pete can help entertain them while they wait.”
Kiera hesitated, trying to figure out if she’d done something wrong. “Are you sure you’re good? You seem kind of… on edge.”
Izzy turned a page with just a little too much force. “Kiera, you’re distracting me.”
Kiera blinked at the bluntness in her tone. “Right. Sorry.” She shifted awkwardly, pressing her lips together. Okay. That was… something. Izzy had been weird all day, but this? This was new.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, staring out at the ocean again, determined not to let the sting settle too deep.
Izzy sighed heavily and shut her book with a decisive thump , scrubbing a hand over her face. “Okay, that was rude. Sorry,” she let out a long sigh. “What I mean is, you’re… very distracting.” Her tone was soft and quiet, like the admission humbled her greatly.
Kiera studied her. Izzy wasn’t just annoyed — she was uncomfortable . She now sat stiffly, tension woven through every line of her body, like she was forcing herself to stay put when all she wanted to do was bolt.
Kiera hesitated for half a second before pressing, keeping her voice gentle. “I’m sorry to… distract you.”
Izzy’s tongue darted over her lower lip, and Kiera found herself leaning forward. “For what it’s worth, you are also extremely, extremely distracting.”
Izzy’s gaze flicked down toward Kiera’s mouth, and Kiera could feel the moment building. She was sure that Izzy felt the same way, felt the same inevitability of whatever was drawing them together.
The buzz in her pocket jolted her back to reality. Kiera winced, cursing under her breath, but instinct made her reach for it. Danica’s name flashed across the screen.
Kiera exhaled, still breathless from the moment that had shattered between them. She answered the call with fumbling fingers. “Danica?” She put the phone on speaker.
“Hey,” Danica said, voice calm but a little tired. “Just wanted to let you know Maggie’s nose is definitely broken, but she’ll be fine. They gave her some pain meds. Pete’s getting her checked out now, so we’ll be back soon.”
Izzy nodded, then stood, packing up her chair and shuffling around her things.
Kiera watched Izzy while trying to stay focused on the call with Danica. “Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad she’s okay.” Danica promised to send a text when they were on their way back.
“I’m going to go take a shower and start dinner. You can stay here if you want, though,” Izzy said.
“Okay. I’ll be in soon to do the same,” Kiera said, and Izzy nodded again, then picked up the small lounge chair and headed back up the beach.
For a second, Kiera just sat there, her pulse still racing, her body caught in the space between what almost happened and what didn’t.