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me. “What is so funny now?” I threw my hands up, confused.
    “You are,” he said, still chuckling. Stepping forward, he plopped down on Luca’s towel. “You know I’ve been vacationing here since I was four, and you are by far the most entertaining summer kid I’ve met.”
    “I’m so glad I can liven things up for you,” I said sarcastically.
    “Me too,” he responded in all seriousness. “I was feeling pretty down when I first got here. My sister’s going away to college this fall and this summer she’s been so focused on her future plans, she’s had no interest in hanging out or doing any of the things we normally do on this trip. Until you arrived, I thought this summer was going to royally suck.”
    My heart softened at his words. Slowly, I lowered down onto the towel next to where he sat. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “That must be tough.”
    His shoulders bobbed up and down, that easy smile returning. “It’s always hard when the family dynamic changes.” When his gaze bounced to mine, there was understanding in his eyes.
    I swallowed back the emotion that slowly crept up. “Yeah, it is.”
    “That your soccer ball?” His head swiveled over to where Dad’s stuff lay in the white sand. When my gaze landed on the slick black and white ball, I was surprised. I hadn’t even seen Dad bring it. He must have been hopeful that we could play at some point today. My throat felt tight.
    “Yeah, it is.”
    “You play?” He stretched out his legs, his feet pushing against the sand. It coated his toes and the soles of his feet. The muscles on the back of his calves flexed.
    “I used to.”
    “Maybe we could play some time.”
    “Sure.” A slight breeze picked up, and a strand of hair whipped into my face. I brushed it back with my finger. “I wouldn’t mind kicking your butt in soccer.”
    “Says the girl who just ate a mouthful of sand trying to walk into the ocean.”
    My expression hardened. “That was an accident. I tripped over a rock or something.”
    “Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows lifted. “And what was your excuse the last time?”
    My face flamed. Pressing my lips together, I realized there was no way to answer that without embarrassing myself more. What could I say? That the wave hit me because I was too busy staring at him to notice it was coming at me?
    A group of teenage girls in bikinis sauntered past. His gaze flickered to them momentarily, and my stomach soured. Not that I cared. I didn’t. But for some reason it irked me. Maybe because I knew I’d never look like them.
    “It’s okay to admit you need help,” he said, tearing his eyes from the group of well-endowed girls. “I’m happy to teach you how to bodysurf.”
    “Oh, I know how to bodysurf,” I told him.
    “You do know you’re not supposed to surf with your face, right?’
    “Yes,” I hissed. “I know.”
    He chuckled. “All right. Then show me what you got.”
    “Oh, I will. And then I’ll beat you in soccer too.”
    “One thing at a time, summer girl.” Standing, he offered his hand.
    I stared at it a moment before taking it. When his fingers closed around mine, my stomach did a somersault. As he guided me to my feet, I thought back to what Grace had said during our earlier conversation. Was she right? Did I have a crush on him?

SIX
     
    He texted me first thing this morning. At first I assumed it was Grace. I rolled over in bed snatching up the phone expecting some sarcastic Grace-like greeting. To say I was shocked when I realized it was from Austin would be an understatement. He’d asked for my number yesterday afternoon right before we left the beach. He’d even put my name in his contacts as “Summer Girl,” and I found that pretty amusing. Still, I never thought he’d text me right away. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d seen him.
    In my experience, it seemed that guys liked to wait before calling or texting a girl. And, by “my experience,” I mean from movies and TV