Page 84 of Home in Nevada

The waves look perfect, though, and I can’t resist. After a few minutes of prep, I wade into the water and paddle out, figuring Jamie will turn up eventually. The ocean’s calling, and I don’t want to miss out.

The waves are better than I expected, and for a while, I lose myself in the rhythm of surfing. The rush of catching a wave, the crash of the water—it’s everything I didn’t know I needed. But eventually, my eyes scan the shore again, and there he is. Jamie’s sitting on my towel, camera in hand, completely absorbed in whatever he’s doing.

At least he’s okay.

I swim back to shore, dragging my board behind me, my muscles screaming in protest. Surfing’s kicking my ass, harder than I remember, but it feels good. Satisfying.

Jamie doesn’t even look up as I approach, his focus glued to his camera. “Hey,” he says, laughing as I drop onto the sand next to him, “you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”

“Gee, thanks, you smug little fuck,” I mutter, shoving him playfully. He just laughs and nudges me back with his elbow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile that makes my heart race.

Jamie’s in his swim trunks, but he already made it clear on the drive over—he’s not getting in the water. It’s kind of funny... and yeah, a little disappointing. I wanted to swim with him. But the water’s cold, and Jamie’s a total baby when it comes to the cold. No surprise there.

While he’s still messing with his camera, I unzip my wetsuit halfway, pulling my arms out of the sleeves. He’s too distracted to notice me, and I can’t help but pout.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, leaning closer to him.

Jamie blinks, snapping out of his camera trance. “Oh... I was just checking out my shots.”

“Where the hell were you? You missed most of my waves.”

He glances at me, smiling in that way that makes me forget how to be annoyed with him. “No, I saw it. I was over there.” He points toward some sharp rocks on the far side of the shore.

I squint, following his hand. “Are you shitting me? No way you were over there… I didn’t even see you.”

“Yeah, that was the point.” He grins, leaning back on his hands. “I usually shoot landscapes, but with people, it’s better if they don’t know they’re being photographed. If you’d noticed me, you’d have ruined most of my shots.”

I laugh, brushing sand off my arm. “Why? I wouldn’t have ruined them.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk returning to his lips. “Jeff… You would’ve started posing. I know you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he’s not wrong. “Okay, maybe,” I admit, smiling.

Jamie just laughs, his gaze drifting toward the water. For a moment, it’s quiet—just us, the ocean, and the warm, sticky air—and it feels… right. Like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be. Together.

“You probably would’ve made funny faces, posed like an idiot, or flipped me off or… something,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Probably.” I grin and sit up, wiggling out of my wetsuit. It clings like a second skin, but I finally manage to peel it all off. Grabbing a second towel from my bag, I rub it over my face and hair, trying to get rid of the salt and sand.

“Can I see the photos?” I ask, holding out my hand for his camera.

“Nope. I’ll show you later. I have to edit them first. Plus, you’re still dripping wet.”

“Can you make me look extra buff?”

Jamie snorts, stifling a laugh. “I edit the lighting, you gorgeous idiot… I don't manipulate the image.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “But I don’t think you need the help. You already look really good in these, Jeff. You’ll see.”

I’m about to tease him back, but he starts putting his camera away, slinging the bag over his shoulder. Something feels off. He’s quieter than usual, not as chatty. Jamie isalwayschatty. He seems... distant.

Still lying on the towel, I reach over and squeeze his bare waist to get his attention. Jamie giggles—actuallygiggles—and swats my hand away. I can’t help but grin. God, he’s ridiculous.

“How come there’s no one here?” he asks, brushing sand off his arm.

“Not many people come to this part of the beach. You have to swim past those sharp rocks to get into the waves. It’s mostly just surfers, and it’s pretty late in the day.”

Jamie hums in response but doesn’t say anything else.

“You’re quiet,” I point out, watching him closely.

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