Page 56 of Below the Barrel

And then he kisses me.

It’s soft at first, gentle, like he’s testing the waters. But the second I respond, the kiss deepens, and everything around us seems to fade away. His lips move against mine with a tenderness that makes my heart swell, and I melt into him, my hand sliding up to the back of his neck. The world falls away until it’s just him, me, and this kiss.

The fireworks continue to explode above us, a kaleidoscope of colour lighting up the night, but all I can focus on is Koa. How his lips taste like the sweetness of the cotton candy we shared earlier, how his hand feels against my cheek, and how this kiss feels like a promise. A promise of everything that could be.

When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I meet his eyes again. He smiles, that goofy, boyish smile that makes my heart skip a beat every time.

“See?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across my lips. “Fireworks.”

I can’t help but laugh, a mixture of disbelief and pure happiness bubbling inside me. “Yeah…fireworks.”

As the Ferris wheel starts moving again, slowly lowering us back to reality and back to the cameras, I realize that whatever happens next, this moment—this kiss—will stay with me forever.

TWENTY-ONE

KOA | TAHITI, FRENCH POLYNESIA

The sunbarely rises over the horizon, casting a golden morning glow across the beach as we gather for morning yoga. The sky is painted in colours that would make you stop and take a breath, appreciating where you are. But all I can focus on is Maliah—directly in front of me, stretching her arms above her head in perfect form, her body moving like it’s made for this.

And damn, it’s distracting.

Her curves are on full display in those tight lavender leggings and that little matching sports bra, the one that hugs her in all the right places. Her blonde waves cascade down her back, catching the light of the sunrise like a halo, and I swear, every time she bends forward, my mind goes places it really shouldn’t.

Stop. Breathe, Koa.

This is supposed to be relaxing. Centring. A time to clear the mind and find peace. But how the hell am I supposed to find peace when she’s right there in front of me, moving like that? It doesn’t help that I haven’t had nearly enough sleep between the other night, still buzzing from the Ferris wheel kiss, and the eighteen-hour flight to Tahiti. And now here I am, fighting the urge to grab her, toss her over my shoulder, and march us straight back to our shared villa.

I glance up and catch one of the camera guys pointing his lens in our direction, reminding me that SurfFlix is still a thing. Great. I’m not only dealing with my own personal torment but doing it on camera. I can already imagine how they’ll cut this together—me trying to focus on yoga while clearly eye-fucking Maliah.

She shifts into another pose, this time a deep lunge, her body arching just enough to drive me out of my damn mind. My fingers twitch at my sides as I force my eyes to stay on the instructor, trying to focus on her gentle voice. It’s either that or give in to the primal urge to drag her out of here.

The instructor calls out another stretch, but it’s no use. I can barely keep up with the movements because all I can see, all I can think about, is her.

After yoga is finally over, I’m on a mission to get Maliah back to our villa as quickly as possible. My body’s still buzzing, and I’ve had enough of holding back for one morning. As we walk back, I reach for her hand, my mind already racing with the thought of taking her in the shower. The warmth of the water, her skin slick against mine—it’s almost enough to make me forget we’re not even alone yet.

But then, just as I’m about to suggest we make a detour to get back faster, one of the female surfers jogs up to us, eyeing me like I’m her next meal.

“Hey, you two! A bunch of us are hitting the jet skis this morning. You in?”

Maliah’s eyes light up like she’s a kid on Christmas. “Jet skis? I’ve never done that before! Sounds fun, right?” She’s practically bouncing on her toes as she looks up at me, excitement radiating from her, and just like that, I’m screwed.

I was about to suggest something a lot more…private, but how can I say no to her when she looks like that?

Still, there’s a feeling of hesitation in my chest, and it’s not just because I wanted some alone time. Off to the side, I see Charles standing near a group of surfers, glaring at me again like he’s ready to explode. His face is still bruised from the bar incident, the evidence of my punches clearly visible. He hasn’t said a word to me or Maliah since then, but he doesn’t have to. The way he’s been watching me says enough.

There’s a dangerous tension in the air whenever he’s around. I felt it from the moment I met him, and I can’t help but think it’s only a matter of time before he does something stupid to get revenge. For now, he hasn’t acted on it. He knows that if he escalates things, we both could be kicked off the tour, and neither of us wants that. Still, Charles gives me the impression that he isn’t the type to let things go.

“Jet skis sound awesome!” Maliah says, dragging me into this decision.

I grit my teeth and force a smile. “Yeah, sure, why not?” The words feel heavy in my mouth. I don’t want her anywhere near Charles, especially not in open water where things could get messy.

I glance back at Charles, who’s smirking now, like he’s already won something. I want to deck him again, but I can’t risk it. Not just because of the tour, but because if I lose my cool, Maliah’s the one who’ll end up hurt the most. So I agree, knowing damn well I’ll have to keep a close eye on her the entire time.

We boardour jet skis after changing into our swimwear, and I try to hide that I’m not exactly in the best mood. I’m wound up so tight I’m pretty sure I could snap, and now, instead of relieving some of that tension back at the villa, we’re out here on jet skis.

Great.

“No life jackets?” I ask.

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