Nora has a tell when she's upset—she can't meet your gaze, and she seems to shrink into herself.

I fucking hate it.

I push off the edge toward her, each stroke mirroring my mind's struggle for clarity. The cool water parts for me like the last of my restraint giving way. With every inch closer, I cross invisible boundaries that once seemed sacred, venturing into territory that feels both forbidden and inevitable.

"Do I make you nervous, Nora?"

The words rip out of me, rougher than I meant, but fuck it. I watch her fingers dig into the pool's edge like she needs something to hold onto. The water between us pulses, each tiny ripple drawing me closer like a tide answering the moon's irresistible call. So damn close but still out of reach, kinda like she's always been.

"No," she says, and I catch it—that little crack in her voice. Trying to sound sure but I hear what she's hiding. "You're not my type." Her eyes do that thing where they skate away from mine.

I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

She's so full of shit. Playing this game where she pretends she's got walls I can't touch. She thinks all that armor she's built keeps me out, but her body's selling her out big time. That pulse hammering at her throat, the way her skin flushes pink when I get close—her body doesn't lie like her mouth does.

She feels me. Every-fucking-where.

"I never said I was," I whisper, moving in closer, the space between us disappearing. "But I think you're lying." My voice drops low, the way that used to make her shiver. I plant my hands on either side of her legs, trapping her between my arms. The concrete digs into my palms but I barely notice. She's so close now I can feel the heat coming off her skin, mixing with the water droplets on my chest. We're close enough that each breath we take feels borrowed from the other.

"You're dreaming," she fires back, a sweet venom in her smile.

She's been weaving through my fucking dreams for years. And what irks me now, despite all the shit between us, is I still want her in ways I shouldn't.

"You know how I know you're full of shit? Your lips say one thing, but your eyes," I lean closer, her breath hitching, "they tell me something else entirely."

There's a charged silence, our energy speaking volumes more than words ever could.

"Wow. I knew you were an asshole but an arrogant one too?" she challenges.

I laugh, real and raw. "You're confusing arrogance for confidence. I'm confident you're full of shit."

"You still know how to get on my nerves.” She flicks water at my face.

"You're welcome." I laugh again, the sound genuine, echoing around us.

She shakes her head, moving to get up from the pool edge. "Goodnight, Nate."