My mom is forcing me to work. In the summer. Her friend owns The Fresh Cove, a clothes store for all ages, and they need helpers. School ended two days ago, and the day after school my mom and I drove to Cape Cod to our beach house. It sits on the edge of the beach, and we usually stay the whole summer.

I hear the bell ring and I look up. My heart stops when I see the guy who walks in. He's tall with shaggy jet black hair that has a slight wave, wearing a simple navy blue t-shirt with tan khakis. His dark blue flip flops thwack on the floor as he walks over to the guy's clothes. His tan muscular arms examine some jean shorts. Not that I'm obsessing over every detail about him.

I clear my throat and shuffle over to him, my feet moving a little too quickly over to where he is standing.

"Can I help you?" I say. He looks up at me and my breath stops in my throat. His eyes. Electric blue, large and soulful, framed with dark lashes. They bore into mine a bit longer than just a glance. Freckles are splattered across his nose, as if someone had sprinkled them across his face. I try to tear my gaze away, but I can't. His lips curl into an awkward, but adorable, crooked smile and he says, "I think I've found what I'm looking for, thanks." My face flushes, but I realize he meant the shorts. Or did he?

He keeps staring intently at me until a disgruntled mother barks at me, "Salesgirl! We need a size larger!" I turn around and I see a mother trying to pull off a tank top that barely reaches her daughter's waist. She looks about five years old, and her fat bulges out, clearly not allowing the tank top to slip off. I sigh, and look at the guy again, who's smirking at me. "Have fun with that, salesgirl," he winks and strolls over to a counter with guy's cologne.

I feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks again. He winked at me! I let my breath out and twirl around to face the mother and daughter, nearly knocking over a sale rack in my blissful feeling right now. The mother is ogling at me like I'm crazy, and the girl is scowling deeply, the tank top stuck under her armpits. I almost skip over to them, saying cheerfully, "I'm sorry, that's the biggest size we carry." The mother scoffs impatiently, muttering angrily under her breath. "Well, the least you could do is to help me get this thing off my daughter." I glance at the girl again. She makes this face as if saying "don't touch me or I will bite you."

"Um..." I say, unsure of where to start. I hesitantly grab the bottom of the tank top and pull up, but it barely moves. I start yanking it up aggressively, but the girl's face flushes angrily. "I'm sorry," I say impatiently, but I continue to yank anyway. I hear someone laughing, and I glance up sharply, and the cute guy is next to me, a grin on his face.

"Need some help?" he says, winking at me again. His cuteness melts away my anger instantly. He gently takes the tank top and wriggles it around, and it slowly moves up over the girl's arms, and he triumphantly holds it up. Thank goodness the girl was wearing a cami underneath. He folds the tank top and puts it back on the rack. "Thank you," the mother says, sounding relieved and she grabs the girl's arm and they walk briskly out of the store.

The guy's eyes find mine. "I'm Zack," he says, smiling his darn cute smile, leaving me breathless.

"I'm Arianna," I say, smiling shyly back.