Chapter 80 Swimming and Secrets
Malia's POV
The sun at noon is hot and bright, reflecting off the water as a sparkling layer of turquoise. After lunch, it’s everyone to the beach—the towels are thrown across the sand, the coolers are hauled close, music is emanating from a portable speaker. July is the one who’s first in, shrieking as she cannonballs into the shallows and sends a wave of spray over Freddy, who yelps and tosses her a handful of wet sand.
I laugh from the shore, my toes curling in the warm foam. Aiden is already shirtless, his skin golden from days in the sun, and he appears beside me. Without a word, he snatches my hand and pulls me along.
“Come on,” he says, grin wicked. “Time to get wet.”
We wade in together. The water is cool around my thighs, waist, and I kick off, let it hold me. July sighted us and she’s charging, arms wide.
“Group swim fight!” she yells.
All hell breaks loose.
Fights breakout immediately; everyone splashing. July and Freddy tag team Rowan, who somehow manages to dart around with surprising grace and dispatches targeted, precise splashes that makes July squeal. Cian is lying on his back, acting like he doesn’t see anything until Freddy throws him under the water—then Cian comes up like a quiet storm and pulls Freddy down in a single move.
I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt. Aiden circles around the back of me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me back against his chest.
“Traitor,” I say playfully, twisting so that I’m looking at him.
He smirks. “Survival instinct.”
I'm about to splash him when he ducks under and grabs my legs, he hoists me out of the water as if I weigh nothing. I squeal, holding on to his shoulders as he twirls us in a slow spin. Water cascades off us, glittering in the sunshine. When he finally puts me down, I shove him—playful, not hard enough to actually move him—and he laughs, deep and genuine.
The others are beginning to drift closer. July prompts everyone: races. We line up in the shallows, our feet sinking into the sand. On her count we shoot out forward, awkward, splashing, laughing. Rowan wins easily, long strokes cutting through the water as if he was born in it. Freddy finishes last, dramatically flopping onto his back when he crosses the finish line.
“Cheaters,” he gasps. “Too many legs.”
Aiden and I lock eyes from across the chaos. He nods toward deeper water —shhh—not for the whole group, just me. I nod.
While the others debate a rematch, we make our escape. The water here is swiftly deep, changing from turquoise to sapphire. I dive under once, twice, feeling the cool rush of the ocean over my skin. Aiden follows, strong strokes keeping pace.
When we break the surface he brings me close, hands around my waist. “Deeper?” he says.
I nod twice, excited.
We swim out until the bottom drops away completely. We’re being held by the water, floating and silent. He pulls me close, our legs twisting together, our faces just inches away. No words—just his mouth finding mine below the surface.
The kiss is different underwater—slower, heavier, bubbles escaping when we break apart for air. His hands glide up my back, fingers skimming along my spine under the bikini straps. I clasp my legs around his waist, my arms wrapped around his neck. We go down a little, then back up, kissing again—open-mouthed, salty, frantic in a great sense.
His tongue grazes mine, slow and calculated; I hear the low rumble in his chest when I tighten my grip.
We emerge gasping, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling with sea spray.
“Snatching moments,” he whispers, mirroring his vow from the motorcycle night.
“Best kind,” I reply softly.
We bob there for a while, the slow-motion kisses turning seemingly faster as our hands start to wander beneath the water, the saltwater turning only into salt, skin, and the constant pumping of our hearts.
At last we drift toward a flat rock ledge that extends into the sea. Warmed by the sun, the surface crumbles beneath my palms as I draw myself up. Aiden follows, water dripping from him, his muscles rolling as he sits beside me.
We’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, our legs dangling in the water, watching as the others become tiny shapes in the distance. The rock seems to be our own private island within the island.
Aiden’s fingers find mine, our fingers tangled together.
“I’ve thought about it,” he says softly.
I turn my head. “About?”
“Us. The bond. Everything.” He looks out at the bow, jaw clenched. “I get that I’m scared too. That it’s got too many layers. That one day you’re gonna wake up and think ‘I don’t want to be pulled in three different directions. That you’ll make your choice—and it won’t be me.”
My heart tightens. I move closer and lay my head on his shoulder.
“I’m scared too,” I say. “But not because I think I’m going to have to choose. I’m scared because I don’t want to lose any of you. Not you, not Rowan, not Cian. The bond isn’t just some magical string that ties us together—it’s real feelings are involved. Real connections. And I don’t want to rip any of them.”
He turns, eyes searching mine. “You mean it?”
“Every word.”
He exhales, long and slow, like he’s been holding the breath for days. Then he cups my face and kisses me—soft at first, almost careful, then deeper, hungrier. I lean into him, my fingers pressing against his chest as I watch his heartbeat quicken beneath his skin.
When we separate, he presses his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” he said. “To anything. Not the bond, not my brothers, not fear. I want this—all of it. Messy, complicated, beautiful. I want you.”
Tears sting at my eyes. I kiss him again — slow, slow, slow, slow, slow, lingering, pouring everything I’m too afraid to say into the press of my lips. His arm slides around me and pulls me into his chest and I rest my head on his shoulder. We rest on the rock, warm beneath us; the water is lapping softly at our feet.
We’re kissing like we’ve got all the time in the world — long, slow, deep, our roaming hands without hurry. His hands grid down my spine, under the bikini straps, and then at my back. I grind against him slowly, watching him grow harder beneath me, the friction causing sparks to shoot through my entire body.
“Aiden,” I whisper against his mouth.
He groans low with his hands resting on my hips.
His hands are warm, and they kiss down my neck, teeth graze the spot that makes me shiver. I lean back, exposing more to him, as my fingers wind through his wet hair. The sun is scorching, salt is drying on our skin, and all that exists is—his mouth, his hands, and the way he cradles me as if I’m something fragile and breakable and unbreakable all at once.
We remain like that until the light changes, until there are faint calls from the main beach. We come together reluctantly, breathing heavy, eyes locked.
“Later,” he vows, voice rough.
We slip back beneath the water, swimming up to the others. July waves us over, snorkel mask pushed up on her head.
“Finally! Snorkeling time. You two missed the best fish.”
We join them, taking masks and fins from the heap. The water has a different texture now – colder, clearer, as if the world had been brought into focus at the edges.
We dive under, all three of us at once, chasing bright schools of fish that streak between coral. July is pointing excitedly at a bright blue tang; Freddy tries to pursue a sea turtle and then gets reprimanded by Rowan.
Aiden remains close, brushing my hand against his under the surface every so often. I see him in flashes — strong strokes, sunlight shining down through water onto his back — and that same powerful certainty roots itself inside me.
When we do finally get out, the sun is low, casting an orange-pink light over everything. We’re exhausted – sunburnt shoulders, wrinkled fingers, happy-tired smiles. We are swathed in towels; cool drinks are being exchanged from one hand to the next.
July flops onto the sand next to me. “Best day ever.”
Freddy nods, resting his head on her stomach. “Agreed.”
Rowan is quiet, watching the horizon. Cian draws the last of the light on the sea.
Aiden draws me to him, his arm around my shoulders. I lean into him, and my fingers lightly touch the moonstone necklace, still warm beneath my skin.
Weary muscles, salty hair, soft chuckles caught on the wind. It ends the way days like this are supposed to end…happy, full, and undeniably our own.
And really do hope it stays this way.