Along The Distant Shore

Chapter 10

The next few weeks felt like something straight out of one of those cheesy romance movies you see on lazy Sunday afternoons, the kind where everything falls into place so perfectly, it almost seems scripted. Like the universe was playing the soundtrack and coordinating every little detail—too good to be real, but somehow exactly what I needed.

It started with Leo showing up after every shift at Coastal. He didn't even ask anymore; he just appeared. No matter how late or tired I was, he'd be there waiting outside the bar, leaning against his truck with that goofy grin of his, always so sure of himself. The moment I stepped out, his eyes would light up and he'd wave me over, his energy like this constant surge of warmth. I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling—no questions, no explanations, just this kind of effortless pull between us that felt right from the start.

He'd pick me up almost every night after work, and instead of heading straight to his house or calling it a night, we'd drive aimlessly through town, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes, we'd hit the surf if the night was warm enough. Other times, we'd grab a board and skateboard along the pier, racing each other down the path while laughing so loud people probably wondered what was wrong with us. Leo's that guy who's always ready for adventure, even if it means gliding down a steep hill on a skateboard in the middle of the night, just because the thought of doing it together made us both feel alive.

Our "dates," if you could call them that, weren't fancy or planned. They weren't filled with candle-lit dinners or grand gestures. No, they were moments—small, simple, and absurdly perfect. Like those late-night drives to nowhere, the sun setting behind us, leaving the ocean just a hint of glow against the sky. Or the hours spent trying to master a tricky trick on our boards, laughing at each other's stumbles before we ended up tumbling into the sand, tangled in limbs, unable to stop laughing. I've never had so much fun just being, existing in the moment, not worrying about the future.

The making out came with a kind of regularity I wasn't used to. In the middle of our spontaneous adventures, it was like the world stopped each time our lips met. Every kiss felt like an extension of the day before, a continuation of the comfort we found in each other. But it wasn't just about the kisses—the electricity was more in the way his hand would find mine without me asking, how he'd casually brush his lips against my temple like it was no big deal.

And there was a special sort of magic in those moments when we'd just sit in silence, eyes locked across the cab of his truck or from opposite ends of a picnic bench by the beach, listening to the hum of life happening around us. No words were necessary, but everything about those silences spoke louder than anything we could say.

I didn't need grand declarations to feel it, but sometimes, Leo's little slip-ups were more than enough. Like when he called me 'babe' absentmindedly as he passed me a drink and then blushed so hard I thought his cheeks would burn off. Or that time he told me, matter-of-factly, that his favorite part of the day was driving me home after work, like it wasn't just something he did because it was expected, but because he genuinely wanted to.

Even the days when I tried to shut everything out and remind myself that none of this could last—that it was a fleeting summer romance—I couldn't ignore the small, quiet moments that made the rest of my life fade into the background. As the weeks passed, Leo's laughter became the soundtrack of my days, and his presence made everything seem more... bearable. The pull of him in my life, the jokes, the teasing, the way we'd sit together until our lips started to fall asleep just so we could still be near each other—it felt real.

It was like a movie, like everything I wanted but was too scared to admit even to myself. Leo had a way of making me feel less alone, of making all the chaos in my head settle. And in the back of my mind, despite how great everything felt in the moment, I couldn't ignore the nagging thought: was this just a dream that would end too soon?