𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖺, 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈

the night was warm, the kind that made my skin sticky with salt and sunscreen, the air thick with the scent of coconut and sea breeze. i leaned against the wooden railing of the beachside bar, my fingers curled around a sweating glass of something fruity and half-melted. the ocean stretched wide and endless before me, shimmering under the moonlight.

beside me, tucker was talking, laughing, grinning like he always did-like everything in the world was meant to be fun. i tried not to watch him too closely, tried not to notice how the golden glow of the string lights caught in his hair, how his sunburned nose made him look impossibly boyish.

"i can't believe you've never had a tim tam slam," he said, shaking his head at me, mock disappointment in his voice.

i rolled my eyes. "i told you, i don't eat chocolate like that."

"well, that's about to change." he unwrapped the biscuit and held it out to me, his fingers brushing mine as i took it. the touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent something sharp and restless through my chest.

i did as he said-bit off the ends, used it as a straw for my drink. the caramel and chocolate melted instantly, overwhelming and sweet. i let out an involuntary sound of surprise, and tucker laughed.

"oh my god," i muttered, still chewing.
"told you," he said, leaning in slightly, his eyes flickering over my face like he was memorizing something.

the music from the bar played low in the background, a slow, lazy melody that matched the rhythm of the waves behind us. i should have looked away. should have reminded myself that this-whatever this was-wasn't meant to last. but i didn't.

because in that moment, under the australian summer sky, with the ocean humming behind us and his gaze steady on mine, it felt like maybe, just maybe, it could.

tucker smirked, still watching me, like he was waiting for something.

"what?" i asked, my voice quieter than before.

he shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. "nothing. just... you're cute when you're impressed."
i rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading through me had nothing to do with the balmy air. "don't get used to it."

"i think i just might." his grin was easy, effortless, the kind that made it impossible to tell if he was serious or just teasing. and maybe that was the problem-tucker always made it too easy. too easy to laugh, to let my guard down, to forget that this was temporary.

a breeze rolled in from the ocean, lifting strands of my hair, and before i could tuck them behind my ear, tucker reached out. his fingers brushed against my cheek as he gently pushed them back, lingering just a second too long.

i should have pulled away.

i didn't.

instead, i let myself look at him-really look at him. the way his tanned skin glowed under the soft yellow bar lights, the freckles scattered across his nose, the way his lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but was thinking better of it.

"isla." his voice was quieter now, rougher.

"tucker," i murmured back, a challenge, an invitation.

and just like that, the space between us disappeared.

his lips brushed against mine first, testing, teasing, before pressing fully, completely. he tasted like salt and lime, like summer and something i wasn't ready to name. my fingers curled into the front of his shirt, holding onto him, grounding myself against the way the world tilted slightly beneath my feet.

the waves crashed softly in the distance. the bar lights flickered above us. the night stretched on, endless, fleeting.

i knew this wouldn't last. we both did.

but right then, in that moment, none of it mattered.