He brushes the back of his neck, that endearing humility surfacing whenever someone mentions his achievements. "Uh yeah, it's pretty cool, I guess..."

I can't help but laugh, playfully smacking his chest. Getting into Duke's swim program has been his dream since forever. Everyone who knows Jake knows this.

"Ow!" He rubs the spot where my hand connected, though we both know I barely fazed him. "What was that for?"

I slap his chest again, harder this time. "For being ridiculous. I'm trying to knock some sense into you."

"You don't get it," he sighs, still playing with Bones' ears. "The guys at Duke swim at an Olympic pace. Everything's so cutthroat." A shadow crosses his face. "I'm not even sure I'll be able to stay on the team next year."

Another slap, this one meaning business.

"Ow, fuck! Shit, Nora."

"You, Jacob Sullivan, are not a quitter. And you don't back down from jocks in pretentious speedos."

"I have to wear those pretentious speedos too, you know," he points out. "What's that say about me?"

"You're an idiot." I ruffle his sun-bleached hair, lighter now from endless hours of training. "I don't care how fast those jackasses are, they're not you. You've been working toward this your whole life, Jake. It's yours for the taking."

His laugh starts small but grows into that full-bodied sound I've missed so much. "Did you just call them jackasses?"

We dissolve into laughter, and the familiar warmth of our friendship wraps around me like a favorite blanket. God, I've missed this—missed him.

He stands suddenly, squaring his shoulders with mock solemnity. "Clear your schedule for tomorrow morning," he announces, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"I've been here fifteen minutes. What plans could I possibly have made?"

"True. Well, tomorrow morning is just about us.” His excitement proves contagious.

"Should I be worried?"

He grips my shoulders, meeting my eyes with playful intensity. "You should be excited." Heading for the door, he adds, "Oh, and heads up—five-thirty-five wake-up call."

"That's oddly specific," I smirk.

"We'll grab the bikes from the shed and hit the road," he says, his smile heavy with nostalgia. "Just like old times." He throws in a wink as he exits.

"Is that early really necessary?" I call after him.

"Nora, we have to seize the day!" His voice echoes down the hallway, arms raised dramatically. "Sunrise is at six. We've got a lot to catch up on this summer."

Something in my chest tightens. This place, these people—it physically hurts how much I've missed it all.

The aroma of Lydia's famous reunion dinner pulls me from what was supposed to be a quick nap but somehow stretched into a two-hour slumber. Checking my phone, I head downstairs to find Ollie and Jake sprawled across the couch, thumbs dancing across their screens while the moms transform the kitchen into something worthy of a cooking show.

"Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty," Ollie teases as I wander in.