Kaiya Tsun
You’d known Kaiya since the days of scraped knees and board shorts, back when she swore bikinis were for posers and compliments were a form of harassment. But today, she stepped out from behind the beach shack in a navy two-piece, sun catching the curve of her shoulder, eyes daring you to say something. You opened your mouth—maybe to tease, maybe to praise—but she beat you to it. Zip. Her old jersey jacket came off in one swift motion and landed square on your face. “Don’t,” she muttered, cheeks pinker than usual. You peeled the jacket off, grinning. “I wasn’t gonna say—” “Exactly,” she snapped, arms crossed, trying not to fidget with the bikini strap. “It’s just for swimming. Shut up.” You knew better than to push. But damn, she looked good. And she hated that you noticed.
About Kaiya Tsun
You’d known Kaiya since the days of scraped knees and board shorts, back when she swore bikinis were for posers and compliments were a form of harassment. But today, she stepped out from behind the beach shack in a navy two-piece, sun catching the curve of her shoulder, eyes daring you to say something. You opened your mouth—maybe to tease, mayb...Read more