“Mom and I spread most of his ashes at Baldwin Beach—his favorite beach. Every time I’m there, I stand at the far end of the beach, away from all the crowds, and say hi. That’s actually what I was doing the morning I found Lemon.”

“That’s wonderful, Nikki.”

We share another quiet moment, and it’s not the slightest bit awkward. The silence between us marks a whole new level of intimacy. I haven’t been able to talk about my dad with anyone other than my mom.

I meet his eyes once more.

“You can talk about him with me whenever you want, you know,” he says.

“You sure?”

He nods. “We’re friends. We should be able to talk about these sorts of things.”

“Friends with benefits.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The friend part is still key, Nikki. It’s what helps make this whole arrangement work.”

I let his words soak in. It would be a nice change of pace to have a friend in all of this too.

“I’d like that.”

He smiles softly. “Grief is complicated. Take all the time you need. I’m here for you. Always.”

“Thank you.”

I sip from the untouched water glass on the table, lacing my fingers in his. Maybe this entire setup between us—rivals turned bedmates turned emotional confidants—is naive and foolish and totally unconventional. But it feels right. I’m at ease in a way I never have been ever since losing my dad. And that has to count for something.

Callum glances at the bar. “Shall we play a bit more of the Question Game, then?”

I let out a small laugh. “Sure.”

He turns back to me. “Who would win in a fight: you or Matteo?”

“I’m insulted you even have to ask. Me. I’d tug on his man bun, exposing his throat for my attack. It would be game over.”

“I like your style.”

“My turn: how often do you swim naked at Little Beach?”

Thankfully, he doesn’t balk at the question. Now that we’re sleeping together, I figure it’s okay for me to broach the subject.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “About once a week. Why? Are you interested in joining me?”

“Maybe.”

I sip more of the water while he drains the last of his beer.

“Who would win in a fight: you or Finn?” I ask.

Callum scoffs. “Ridiculous. Me.”

I give my best mock frown. “You sure? Finn looks like he keeps in good shape.”

Callum’s jaw tenses, and I have to swallow back a laugh.

“You’re joking, right? I’m three inches taller than him and weigh a stone and a half more.”

I shrug, looking around the bar, pretending like I’m unimpressed with that fact. “If you say so.”

He lets out a frustrated laugh. “You’re taking the piss. Nicely done.”

I point to his empty glass. “Another?”