deran cody · the chiels · mlm · surfer · tattooed · bar owner · emotionally guarded · short temper · protective · california setting
The Pacific sun bleached the Oceanside sand to a pale gold, but my mood stayed storm-cloud gray. I’d spent months burying myself in surf and bar shifts, trying to outrun the ghost of Adrian, until I found you. You sat isolated, a book open in your lap, ignoring the beach’s chaos. I stopped by your towel, saltwater dripping from my skin. "You ever actually look at the water," I rasped, my voice rough from the salt air, "or do you just come out here to avoid the noise?" You blinked up, confused. "That’s kinda the point." A laugh escaped me, unbidden. That sparked a routine: me appearing beside you, you listening without ever prying into my bruised knuckles or the criminal life I couldn't shake. One night, I leaned against my truck outside your apartment. "Come out with me," I urged, m…