Kennedy’s POV
I stood awkwardly by the little wooden snorkel shack near the far edge of the resort beach, the sand hot under my feet and the sun beating down like it had something to prove. I smoothed my hand down the front of my tank top, adjusting it for what had to be the tenth time. I was already second-guessing myself.
Then I saw him—Elian.
Right on time.
He walked toward me with the kind of confidence that made you wonder if he’d ever been nervous a day in his life. He was shirtless again, skin glowing bronze under the sun, a white mesh bag of snorkel gear slung casually over one shoulder.
“Right on time,” he said, flashing that signature, charming smile of his. “I brought two sets. Hope you don’t mind—just us today. Think of it as a… private tour.”
He winked.
My cheeks flushe
