The sun was molten gold, stretching lazy across the shore as waves lapped and laughter bounced off the breeze. It was one of those perfect beach days—no wind, no stress, just cocktails sweating in the sun and sunscreen-slicked limbs sprawled across linen towels.
Nicky was lying flat on a lounger, sunglasses on, expression unreadable as usual. His skin practically glowed under the Bali sun, towel folded beneath his head like a pillow. That is, until Elias dropped down beside him like a heatwave.
"Don't ignore me, Saint-Claire," Elias said, dropping down beside him with a huff. "You've been lying there like a corpse. Get up and live a little."
Nicky cracked one eye open. "Then I must be on the best vacation of my life."
A snort from Valeria nearby. "Still wearing full boardshorts, Nicks?" she called out, looking over her oversized shades. "What happened to the vintage swimsuits, the high cuts, the floral mesh?"
