Of course, there was still dancing, at least. They spent every day together rehearsing their acro number as the final show approached, and they melted their way across the stage for their tango duet on Tuesday. Archer had to take a cold shower that night. On Saturday, their pas de deux was so intense that Archer was a little shaky as they bowed for the roaring audience.

Archer looked for Mateo in the crowd as soon as he got to Game Night. Speed Connect 4 was set up—four boards in a row along the kitchen island. They had one second to play their piece. Whoever won moved up the ladder. The loser moved down. It was chaotic and fun and distracting enough that Archer managed to mostly forget about staring at Mateo … until he played him.

They smiled as they faced each other across the board, fingers poised to grab their first piece.

“Ready, go!” Dominik yelled. They laughed, jammed their pieces in one at a time in a red and yellow blur, then Archer threw up his hands in celebration when he got four in a row.

“Damn it,” Mateo growled, although he was smiling. “I’ll get you next time.”

Archer won the second time they played each other, and the third.

Mateo sighed and offered Archer a salute after his third defeat. “Guess you’ve got my number.”

“Guess so.” Archer’s heart throbbed.

When the tournament ended and Dominik was declared champion—“Who’s the loser now, Betty?” he gloated—Archer went to the bathroom and to grab another beer. When he came back, Mateo was nowhere to be found. Probably went to bed again. Smart. He shook his head to clear it and joined in a conversation with the others, but it was futile. All he could think about was Mateo. He had barely noticed that the cabin had started to thin out as people finished their drinks and went to bed themselves, until Betty yawned and said she was turning in, too. An image of Mateo in bed flashed behind Archer’s eyes, stretched out … naked, skin glowing against stark white sheets …

The cabin suddenly felt oppressively warm. Archer said good night to Betty and went out onto the porch in search of a cool breeze off the lake. But it wasn’t much cooler out there, the heat of the day lingering and no breeze to be found. He leaned on the railing and blew out a breath, head spinning. The screen door slammed from around the corner and feet thumped down the stairs as another handful headed back to the dorms. Then it was still again, only a few crickets chirping to accompany his thoughts. Maybe when we get back to Manhattan, he consoled himself. Maybe then.