Page 77 of Steel Beauty

There’s honesty beneath the banter. “I’m just saying, if this guy ever crosses my path, he better watch out. I might decide to handle it for you.”

His amusement fades. “Would you think less of me if I lashed out at him?”

“Not even a little. I’d think you’re human—and a man still carrying the scars of what he did to you.” I squeeze his hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Everyone has a breaking point, JC, and sometimes enough really is enough.”

I take a deep breath, letting my words come carefully. “There are a lot of people in this world who would tell you to get over it. But if life’s taught me anything, it’s this: don’t let anyone who hasn’t walked in your shoes tell you how to tie your laces. Only you know what will bring you peace.”

“You’re wiser than your years, you know that?”

“I’ve been lucky to learn from a few good people along the way.”

The conversation drifts into a peaceful silence as I stretch out on the sun pad, the sun’s warmth sinking deep into my skin. He settles beside me, and together we let the day unfold unhurried, the gentle rhythm of waves against the yacht our only companion. As the heat intensifies, a sheen of sweat forms on my skin. I sit up, running a hand through my hair, welcoming the soft breeze as it plays through the strands, offering a brief, refreshing reprieve.

“It’s so hot out here even my sweat is sweating. I think I can actually feel my soul evaporating.”

He glances over, a playful glint lighting his eyes. “Want to cool off in the water?”

“Sure.”

Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

I eye the endless expanse of ocean around us, and my imagination, unhelpfully vivid, starts spinning scenarios. Jellyfish could swarm out of nowhere. A sneaky current might tug me under. Sharks—oh, yes, let’s not forget the possibility of becoming an impromptu seafood platter.

But what are the odds of all that happening? Slim, right? I hope so.

I glance back at JC, whose teasing smirk says he’s ready to dive in. He’s here to save me…hopefully.

We walk to the back of the yacht, and he counts down before we leap in together. The cool water is a sharp, invigorating contrast against my sun-heated skin, making me gasp as I surface. I glance around the endless expanse of blue, my mind conjuring flashes of sharp fins and unseen shadows lurking below.

“What do we do if a shark shows up?” I try to sound playful, but I’m unable to fully mask my unease.

He laughs, the sound light and carefree as it echoes over the water. “I’ll sacrifice myself to save you.”

The way he says it, so easy and offhand, makes me smile. But deep down, I know he actually means it. He’d do it without hesitation, no second thoughts, if it meant keeping me safe. That’s who he is—the kind of man who’d protect the people he cares about even at his own expense. That thought sends a warmth spreading through my chest, one I’m not quite ready to analyze.

“You’re actually worried about sharks, aren’t you?”

Caught, I look down, a little sheepish. “Maybe a little. I mean, we are playing in their backyard.”

He nods, his teasing replaced by something softer. “We can hang out on the floating pad if that’ll help you feel more comfortable.”

Relieved, I smile and nod as we climb onto the floating pad. It wobbles beneath us, a little flimsy, so it feels more like we’re sitting directly in the water than on a solid floating surface. Water pools around us, keeping our skin cool despite the heat of the sun. Every movement sends a gentle ripple through the pad, rocking us softly, the water lapping at our sides and legs.

The sound of the ocean fills the comfortable silence until he glances over at me, his expression curious. “I’ve noticed you’re not one of those people who is glued to her phone. Do you have social media?”

I shrug. “I have accounts on a few platforms, but I rarely post. Broadcasting my life for validation from people I probably didn’t like much to begin with is not my thing. The whole thing is bizarre to me—how people who judged or ignored you in school suddenly want to connect on social media to keep tabs and keep judging. It’s all so fake, not even remotely close to real life. Social media means nothing to me.”

A brief silence follows, sparking my curiosity. “I’ve noticed you’re not glued to your phone either.”

“Social media has zero appeal for me. I have accounts, sure, but someone else manages them.”

I sit up, laughing and giving him a skeptical look. “You have someone who manages your social media? Seriously?”

He grins, his eyes glinting with a trace of mystery. “Perks of the job.”

“Omigod.” I shake my head, amused. “Who are you?”

He leans back, his smile widening with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”

---