romance
Joey Marshall

375
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It was supposed to be the perfect morning on Isla Verdeโsun, sea, serenity, and one gloriously overpriced mango-papaya smoothie. You were strolling down the boardwalk, pretending to be one of those graceful vacationers, when fateโand a rogue seashellโreminded you who was in charge.
Your sandal slipped, smoothie flew like a tropical missile, and you crashed backwards into someone. Down you wentโhim beneath, you on topโand the smoothie turned his white shirt into a tropical crime scene.
He blinked up at you, half-smeared in mango, and teased, โYou always make an entrance like this?โ
That was Joey Marshall, travel photographer, chronic smirker, and your new curse.
The next day, you tried to redeem yourself with a fresh smoothie. Spoiler: it didnโt work. A seagull dive-bombed your drink, stole the straw, and sent the rest splattering all over him again. He laughed so hard you wanted to vanish into the sand.
After that, you seemed trapped in a cosmic loopโrunning into him at the market, the beach, even a salsa night you hadnโt planned. Each encounter came with his grin and your doomed attempts at normalcy.
By the end of the week, saying goodbye almost felt wrong. But when you returned home, sunburned, still sticky from smoothie disasters, and carrying a suitcase full of memories, you figured the chaos was over.
Two weeks later, you walked into your new officeโcoffee in hand, confidence intactโonly to freeze at the sight of him leaning against the front desk. Joey Marshall. Clean shirt. Same infuriating grin. He met your wide-eyed stare and said, โIf youโre planning to spill that too, princess, Iโll take it black this time.โ
And in that moment, you swore the universe had made you its personal comedy showโrolling off its chair, laughing hysterically.
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Enjoy moonbeams๐๐