Beyound the schedule

I didn't say a word.

I couldn't.

Lydia, oblivious to the absolute crime she was committing by existing, had calmly reached for the bottle of sunscreen, squirting a small amount onto her palm before beginning to apply it with smooth, deliberate motions.

My brain had stopped working.

I wasn't even being subtle about it—I was just watching her, completely entranced, as she slowly ran her hands over her arms, smoothing the sunscreen over her sun-kissed skin, rubbing it in with a carefulness that somehow made the entire process unfairly attractive.

The way her fingers glided over her collarbone, the way her muscles shifted slightly as she rubbed the lotion down her arms, the way she was so focused, not even realizing the devastation she was causing—

It was too much.

I swallowed, shifting slightly on my towel, my gaze trailing the motion of her hands as she moved to her stomach, her sides, her legs—

Jesus Christ.

I needed a distraction.

Something. Anything.

Because my brain was not cooperating, and the more I stared, the worse this was getting.

Then, she did something worse.

She turned to me.

Her green eyes steady, unreadable, as she lifted the sunscreen bottle and held it out.

"Can you do my back?"

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

"…What?"

Lydia tilted her head slightly, completely unbothered. "I can't reach. Do my back."

Oh.

Oh, this was dangerous.

I could have said no.

I should have said no.

But instead, I reached out and took the sunscreen from her hand, my fingers brushing briefly against hers, feeling how warm her skin was under the heat of the sun.

I swallowed again, exhaling slowly as I scooted closer, watching as Lydia shifted, turning her back toward me.

Her posture was relaxed, her shoulders bare, her skin smooth and glowing under the sunlight, the toned muscles in her back shifting slightly as she adjusted on her towel.

I squeezed a little sunscreen into my palm, rubbing my hands together to warm it up, and then—

I pressed my hands against her back.

She exhaled softly.

And I almost lost my damn mind.

Her skin was so warm, so soft, and the contrast of the cool sunscreen against her sun-heated body made her tense for just a second, before relaxing again under my touch.

I swallowed hard, my fingers moving slowly, carefully, spreading the sunscreen over the smooth expanse of her shoulders, my thumbs pressing lightly into the tension at the base of her neck.

The sensation was so unfairly intimate—her back was bare and exposed, her breathing steady, the heat of her body radiating under my hands as I rubbed in slow, measured strokes, my fingers skimming the curve of her waist, my palms gliding over the muscles of her upper back.

I was so hyper-aware of everything—the way her skin felt under my fingertips, the way the scent of coconut and salt lingered in the air, the way the sun dappled her body in golden light, highlighting every sharp line, every smooth curve.

Lydia, for her part, didn't say anything.

She just sat there, completely still, letting me touch her, letting me press my hands into her back, letting me feel her.

The moment felt like it stretched forever, something suspended in time, something dangerous and slow-burning, something that I was absolutely not thinking too hard about.

And then—

She cleared her throat.

"That's enough."

I yanked my hands back instantly, like I had just been caught doing something forbidden.

"Right," I said, my voice slightly rough, handing the sunscreen back to her. "All good."

Lydia, as always, looked completely unshaken, taking the bottle without a second glance, as if nothing had just happened, as if my brain hadn't just short-circuited.

I needed to get out of here.

Fast.

"I'm gonna swim," I announced way too quickly, pushing myself up before she could look at me too closely, before she could see the absolute mess she had just caused in my head.

Lydia simply nodded, adjusting her sunglasses as she settled onto her towel.

"Have fun," she said, her voice as calm and neutral as ever.

I stumbled onto the sand, making a beeline for the water, desperate for something—anything—to cool me down.

The water was perfect.

The moment I stepped in, the cool waves rushed over my skin, washing away the heat that had been building up since that sunscreen incident. I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders before fully submerging myself, letting the ocean wrap around me.

I swam out a little, letting the calm rhythm of the waves carry me. The water was clear, warm, the sunlight glinting off the surface like tiny scattered diamonds. It was peaceful, the kind of thing that should have been completely relaxing.

Except—

I was still thinking about Lydia.

I floated on my back for a moment, then let myself drift upright again, shaking salty water from my hair before turning toward the shore.

And—yep, there she was.

Perfect posture. Sunglasses in place. Looking like she came here for one reason and one reason only—tanning.

She was laid out so effortlessly, her toned stomach catching the sun, her long golden-brown hair spread over the towel, her skin glowing against the emerald green of her swimsuit.

She looked completely in her element, like she belonged exactly there, completely unaware of the fact that I was still staring.

I tore my gaze away, focusing back on the water.

This was fine.

I was calm.

I swam a little further out, letting myself unwind, letting the waves pull me into a rhythm, pushing off the water in smooth strokes.

The ocean stretched out around me, the horizon blurring into a perfect line, and for a while, I just enjoyed the feeling of moving without thinking.

It wasn't until I turned back toward shore that I saw something entirely unexpected.

Lydia.

Building a sandcastle.

With a kid.

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

Nope. Still real.

Lydia Whitmore—the most professional, put-together, no-nonsense person I had ever met—was kneeling in the sand, carefully sculpting a tiny fortress next to a little girl who looked about six years old.

And she looked ridiculously focused.

The kid said something, pointing to one of the towers, and Lydia actually nodded seriously, as if they were discussing the blueprints for an actual castle.

I just stared.

Because what the hell was I looking at?