Page 56 of The Love Syllabus

Vic grumbles under his breath as we get stopped at least six times for selfies. He tries to fight it at first, but once a group of old ladies starts calling himThe Fine Dining Daddy, he gives up.

I smirk, whispering in his ear, “You’re famous, Grey Beard. Might as well embrace it.”

He sighs, tossing an arm around my shoulder and fake-smiling for a picture. After another five minutes of playing America’s favorite hot chef, we finally make it to the pier, where we spot Serena, Kiera, Izzy, and their husbands already posted up like royalty waiting to siege.

Serena suddenly grabs a random guy standing next to her and pulls him close. “Hey, you’re my date today since everyone wants to be boo’d up,” she announces dramatically, only to shove him away right after. “Actually, never mind. I enjoy my freedom.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, and I finally introduce Vic to Izzy’s husband.

“Vic, this is Gabe a.k.a Mr. Money Bags. He invented like, ten different apps none of us understand.” I say, gesturing toward Vic, who gives a polite nod as he extends his hand.

Gabe chuckles, shaking Vic’s hand. “I promise I’m only half as impressive as she makes me sound.”

Next, I nod toward Hawkins, who’s already smirking.

“And of course, you already know Coach Hawkins, who’s also Gabe’s business partner.”

Vic narrows his eyes. “Yeah, but shouldn’t you be at practice right now?”

Hawkins blinks. “During the Beach Bum Parade?” He scoffs. “Bro, everything is shut down today.”

“Wait…” I frown. “Even dance practice?”

My friends answer in unison. “Everything.”

Vic and I freeze. I can’t believe I forgot the town is shut down! I should’ve known better. And then it clicks. Slowly, we turn to look at each other as we realize we’ve been fooled.

“It seems we have two masterminding angels on our hands. I think my star students have set us up.” I smile, still processing their adorable betrayal.

Vic exhales, shaking his head, half-amused, half-irritated. “I think everyone in the house did.”

We erupt into laughter, and I don’t know whether to be offended or impressed by their genius.

The water fight is insane – absolute mayhem. Screams and laughter echo across the beach as people dodge, duck, and dive behind anything they can use as cover. Water balloons explode like tiny grenades, and Super Soakers unleash torrents of cold water.

I’m in my element. Slick Vic, however, thinks he’s safe. He thinks he’s too quick, too agile to be caught. But as usual, he’s wrong.

I spot him near the pier, shaking out his trunks, looking way too fine and way too smug for someone who’s about to get annihilated.

Creeping up behind him, I take perfect aim and…WHOOSH. Serena and I douse him with a bucket of ice-cold water from head to toe.

He freezes, but I shriek with laughter. Then, he slowly turns, his eyes dark, and his lips twisted in a sinister smirk.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?”

I take one look at the pure vengeance in his eyes and do the only logical thing that comes to mind. The same thing I did the first night we met.

I run.

And Vic chases me through the crowd, around the pier, and across the sand. Until…splash!

I squeal as Vic gently tackles me into the ocean. His strong arms lock around my waist as the waves crash over us. I surface, laughing, and find him close behind me until he pulls me close against him like he never wants to let go. He grips my waist, and our bodies feel hot against each other despite the cool water. For a moment, the world fades, and the battle noise disappears. In this moment, it’s just us.

My breath catches as his fingers slide up my arms, slow and deliberate. My body hums, my heart pounds, and before I do something really reckless like kiss him in front of the entire damn town, I quickly spin out of his grip and splash him instead.

We enjoy the rest of our beach date together building castles, laughing with friends, and writing The Chef + The Teacherin the sand for everyone to see. Of course, we continue to remind ourselves it’s all for show. We try toconvinceourselves, but the lines are blurring, and I don’t even know if I want to draw them anymore.

Under the shade of private, elegant white canopies is where my bougie friends have outdone themselves.

---