"Why is that so hard to believe?" I'm half offended, though my voice betrays me with a slight tremor.

"Well, I haven't told you when we'd go yet." His voice drops lower, more intimate. His devilish smirk makes an appearance as he crosses his arms across his broad chest, the movement pulling his shirt tighter.

My laugh comes out shaky. "Okay, maybe I don't have plans."

“Good. We’ll go over the next couple of days,” he says, voice barely above a whisper now, the space between us nearly nonexistent.

"Sounds like..."

"A plan,” he finishes with that smirk.

Our eyes lock, and the connection jolts through me like lightning. It's as if he's reached inside and touched something I didn't know existed, something I've never felt before. His gaze holds me captive, seeing straight through me and I hate it. That desperate feeling climbs from my belly to my chest, closing my throat until I gasp, finally breaking eye contact. The heat, the proximity—it's overwhelming. If I don't leave now, I might do something I'm not ready for. Something that could change everything.

"I should, uh, go to bed.” I retreat, forcing a smile.

"Yeah," he says softly, but his eyes tell me he knows exactly what I'm doing. "Goodnight, Leni."

"Goodnight, Nate."

I turn and flee the kitchen, heart thundering against my ribs, but not before stealing one final glance at him. Whatever this is between us, it's far from over.

It feels like it's only beginning.

Golden light stretches across the lake like honey, dawn painting the water in watercolor shades of pink and orange. Jake and I paddle out in comfortable silence, our boards cutting gentle ripples through the glass-smooth surface. There's a peace out here, watching the world wake up in silence.

Jake glances over, his paddle slicing through water with practiced ease. "I'm glad we're doing this."

"Paddle boarding?"

He laughs, the sound carrying across the water. "Well, yeah, paddle boarding, but the list too. I know it's been rough lately. I guess," he pauses, lowering himself to sit on his board, feet trailing in the water, "I just want this summer to remind you of better times."

My chest tightens at his thoughtfulness. "Jake?"

Those bright blue eyes meet mine, made even more striking by the early sun. "Thank you."

His smile could stop traffic—I've seen it happen. "So, how's the writing going?"

I sigh, tilting my face to catch the morning warmth. "It's coming together. Slowly. There's this block though, like something's stuck. It’s like this paralyzing fear of failing."

Jake gives me that look, equal parts concern and understanding.

"Remember when we were kids, and you had to prove you could do whatever Ollie and I were doing? When we decided to dive off the pier, you were terrified but determined to jump." He pauses, ensuring I'm following. "You were scared, but you did it anyway."