It was my best friend’s 21st and I had flown home for her birthday. She’d organised drinks at a bar by the beach with a big group of our friends. There was about 10 of us – including Jack, who I’d been flirting with since high school.
With messy blonde hair and a fading British accent, he was cute and very charming. At a house party a few years earlier, we’d spent the night together on a couch. But beyond a lot of kissing and wandering hands in the dark, we hadn’t gone any further.
Since then, relationships had come and gone, but there’d always been this lingering sexual tension.
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After drinks at the bar, we walked back to my best friend’s house to carry on the party. Sitting around her garden, we chatted and laughed, while Jack kept shooting me cheeky looks.
Catching me alone in the kitchen, he asked if I wanted to go for a walk. My heart raced as we snuck down to the beach in the dark.
We were making our way through the sand dunes when he stopped to grab my hand.