"Don’t take forever," Sam teased, leaning against the outdoor bench. "Some of us still have half the beach in our hair."

She stepped under the oversized brass showerhead, turning the handle until a warm, heavy mist began to fall. The steam rose lightly in the open air, smelling of cedar and the jasmine vines climbing the privacy lattice. As the water hit her hair, the tension of the long walk back seemed to melt into the wooden floorboards.

Maya sat on the edge of the deck, tilting her head back to catch the stray droplets on her face. "There’s seriously nothing better than this. Best way to end a Saturday."