Aliyah's POV

The sun was already up when I crawled out of my tent, the air heavy with the smell of salt and damp sand. Asher was leaning against his bike, arms folded, watching the waves like he was weighing something in his head.

“Morning,” I mumbled, pulling my jacket tighter.

His gaze slid to me, that familiar half-smirk tugging at his mouth. “Thought we’d get you back on the bike today.”

I frowned. “No.”

“It’s not a race,” he said, pushing off the bike. ...