I followed him to the back of the yacht, my bare feet moving soundlessly across the polished deck, my heart beating in a rhythm that seemed to sync with the gentle lapping of the waves. The deck was smooth beneath my soles, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect, while the warm breeze carried the faint tang of salt, teasing strands of my hair into my face.
Rafael walked ahead of me, his movements deliberate and fluid, each step exuding an easy confidence that made it impossible not to notice him. The late afternoon sun cast him in golden light, tracing the lines of his shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his back with an intimacy I envied. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak, but I felt him pulling me forward all the same, as though the space between us was nothing more than a suggestion waitin
