Page 30 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

Max runs toward the waves, and Boomer barks, excited to join him.

"Wait for us!" I call, laughing, trying to force myself to loosen up.

I step into the sand, feeling the heat beneath my feet, wearing my own modest swimsuit, black with a halter neck. Not too revealing, but apparently enough for Nate’s eyes to trail over me in moments when he thinks I’m not looking. Each time he does, I feel it. My skin tingles where his gaze lingers, making it impossible to forget the tension that simmers between us.

We set up our spot on the beach, laying out the towels and positioning the umbrella. But before long, Max is begging for us to join him in the water, Boomer already bounding after him into the waves.

"Come on, Liz, let’s race!” Max shouts again, splashing the water with his hands.

I laugh.

"Alright, alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” I chase after him, the cool ocean waves washing over my feet. I’m grateful for the distraction. Max is a ball of energy, and for a few minutes, everything feels light again easy.

Nate joins us, wading into the water, his chest slick with droplets that shimmer under the sunlight. His smile is rare, but when Max throws a handful of water at him, he can’t help but laugh. I bite my lip, trying not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s magnetic, effortlessly pulling me in even when I know I should keep my distance.

We start playing beach games, first running through the shallow water, then attempting to build sandcastles with Max. He has more fun knocking them down than constructinganything. Boomer runs around, chasing seagulls, completely soaked from his earlier romp in the waves.

At some point, Max and I start a game of beach volleyball. I spike the ball, sending it high above Nate, who reaches out to catch it. He dives, and the next thing I know, I’m losing my balance, tripping over the sand and falling straight onto Nate. My hands splay out across his chest, and suddenly, we are tangled together in the sand, my body pressed up against his.

Time freezes.

I can feel the hard lines of his muscles beneath me, the heat radiating off his skin mixing with the warmth of the sun. I’m breathless, my heart pounding in my chest as his eyes lock onto mine. His gaze is intense, dark, and it holds me there, suspended in the moment. His hands rest on my waist, and for a split second, I forget where we are. I forget everything except the way he feels under me, the way his breath mingles with mine.

I want to lean in. I want to feel what I know would happen if we let go. But before either of us can move, Max’s laughter cuts through the tension.

“You fell, Liz!” he giggles, running over with Boomer by his side, completely oblivious to the moment Nate and I were caught up in.

I scramble off Nate, my cheeks burning as I stand and brush the sand off. My heart is still racing, and I can’t look at him. I can’t believe how close I came to letting that happen. Again.

"Yeah, I fell," I say, my voice shaky as I try to laugh it off, my legs feeling like jelly.

"That’s what happens when you play volleyball with a seven-year-old beach pro." Max retorts.

Nate stands up, brushing the sand off his swim trunks, but his eyes stay on me, unreadable. I avoid his gaze, focusing on Max as we collect our things. It’s time to head back, and I know we both need the distance.

On the drive home, Max is out like a light, his head tilted back against the seat as Boomer curls up beside him. The car is quiet, too quiet, except for the soft sounds of the road beneath the tires.

I try to break the silence with a light joke.

"Looks like we wore them out," I say in a hush, nodding toward Max and Boomer.

Nate glances at me, his jaw tense, then gives a brief nod.

"Yeah," he says, his voice low. But there’s something in his tone telling me he’s still thinking about what almost happened back there on the beach. I can feel the weight of it between us, thickening the air.

I can’t take the tension anymore. I need to talk about it, to clear the air. I don’t know if it’s going to make things worse, but I try.

“Nate,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper so as not to wake Max.

“About earlier... in your office and today at the beach...”

But before I can finish, he cuts me off.

“Liz, nothing happened.” His voice is firm, almost cold, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than me.

I blink, surprised by the sharpness in his tone.

“I know nothing happened, but you don’t have to apologize for it—”

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