The beach was quiet, just the way Nell liked it. A lazy Sunday mid-morning, when the tourists hadn't yet descended and the locals knew better than to give up their solitude too early. The Pacific glistened under a gentle sun, waves curling up the shore in rhythmic, soothing patterns. The breeze was warm but carried that salty edge she loved—fresh, grounding.
Her flip-flops dangled from her fingers, forgotten, as her bare feet pressed into the damp sand. The soft hum of music in her ears wrapped around her like a bubble—Fleetwood Mac, mellow and nostalgic. Her oversized t-shirt, worn and falling off one shoulder, fluttered slightly with every gust. Her cut-off jeans had seen better days, but she didn't care. This was for her. To breathe. To reset.
She wasn't paying attention to anything but the ocean and the music—until she saw him.
That silhouette.
Callen.
Jogging down the shoreline in a t-shirt, black shorts, and the kind of easy rhythm that made it look like he wasn't even trying. She would've known it was him even if he'd been in full tactical gear and half a mile out. There was just something about the way he moved—purposeful, grounded, completely unbothered.
Too much charisma for one man, and absolutely no idea what he did to people.
Especially her.
Nell's heart gave a traitorous little jump as she slowed her steps, sunglasses shielding her eyes but not her thoughts. She watched him for a beat too long, caught in the way the sun hit his face and how easily he looked like he belonged here, like the beach was just another part of his element.
It was a ridiculous crush. A stupid, slow-burning thing that had snuck up on her like fog on the freeway—gentle at first, then suddenly everywhere.
Because he wasn't just Callen. He was her Callen. The one who let her into his world. Who trusted her in the field, teased her like an equal, who looked at her with that quiet intensity when he thought she didn't notice. A colleague, a friend... and sometimes, in her more foolish moments, she wondered if he might be something more.
But she wasn't ready to find out.
So, she did the smart thing—the safe thing. She dropped her gaze and pretended to scroll through her phone, thumbing idly at the screen. Just a girl out on a walk, not flustered, not full of butterflies. Cool. Collected. Invisible.
She flicked her eyes up once—he was getting closer. Her stomach twisted.
Down again.
And then—she heard it.
"Nell?"
That voice. Warm. Familiar. Right there.
She looked up quickly, feigning surprise. "Oh—hey! Callen."
He'd stopped a few feet away, breath a little uneven from the run, his t-shirt clinging lightly to his chest. There was a boyish grin on his face, like he was genuinely happy to see her.
She tugged one earbud free, letting it dangle. "Didn't expect to run into anyone out here."
"Same." His gaze swept over her—casual, appreciative, just a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Didn't take you for the beach-on-a-Sunday type."
"Only when the tourists sleep in," she said, trying to keep her voice light.
Callen smirked. "Smart."
For a moment, the air between them was filled with the sound of waves and the not-so-subtle thud of her heart. He wasn't jogging anymore, just standing there, close enough to make her palms a little sweaty.
He tilted his head, like he wanted to say something else, maybe ask her to keep walking with him—or maybe she was just imagining that.
She glanced down again, tapping her phone to pause the music. "You out here every Sunday?"
He shrugged. "Not always. Depends what I'm running from."
She smiled, a real one this time, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, if it's traffic and emails, you're in the right place."
Their eyes met again. That familiar silence wrapped around them, comfortable, but humming with something that hadn't been there before.
"I should probably keep moving," Callen said, though he didn't step away.
"Yeah," Nell nodded, even though her feet weren't in any rush either. "Me too."
He lingered for a breath longer. "See you around, Nell."
And then he jogged off, the rhythm of his steps fading with the breeze.
Nell stood there a moment, flip-flops still swinging from her hand, earbuds forgotten, watching him disappear into the horizon.
Maybe it was a ridiculous crush.
But for one second, just one, she'd thought she saw it too—something.
And that? That was enough to keep her wondering.
