Archer had another long, hot shower—this time his thighs ached—taking quick peeks past the shower curtain at the slightest sound in case Caleb decided it would actually be fucking hilarious to steal his clothes again. When he got out of the shower, he saw that Lynn had sent him a picture of the most beautiful engagement ring—gold with a pink teardrop diamond—and the caption I found it, Arch!!!

GORGEOUS, he texted back. Omg, she’s going to love it. Good job, you.

Any brilliant proposal ideas? she replied.

Archer sagged. No, in fact. He hadn’t even thought about it since they talked the day before. What a terrible friend. Well, he typed, brain whirring. You guys met in the library, right? What if you went back there and hid the ring behind a book on marriage law or something?

YES! she replied. Love it! It’s quiet, not super public, cause she would hate a spectacle, cozy and romantic … Okay. I think I’m gonna do it.

When?? Archer asked, with some relief that he thought of something at the last second that didn’t suck.

We’re planning on a date Saturday. Maybe then?

So excited for you, babe. You’ve got this xx

Caleb sat next to Archer at dinner and peppered him with questions about his background. It would have felt a little interrogatory, if not for the fact that their thighs kept brushing together.

“So mostly ballet?” Caleb asked, dabbing a piece of lettuce into the side dressing.

“Yup.” Archer had second thoughts about the fry in his hand, but he ate it anyway. “My parents took me to see The Nutcracker when I was four, and I’ve done ballet ever since, then jazz, contemporary, and acro as I got older.”

“Cool, cool.” Caleb nodded and set down his fork, half his salad uneaten. “Same for me, but I did tap, too, and some ballroom. My parents have a studio so I kind of did it all.”

“What was your favorite?” Archer asked, sneaking one more fry.

“Um.” Caleb blinked at him for a second. “My mom said I was best at tap.”

“Yeah, but…” Archer studied Caleb for a moment, once again appreciating his beauty. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh. I, uh … I love ballet. I like that it’s so rigid and controlled, so many rules, but then from that, something fluid and beautiful emerges—something close to perfection.” He shrugged, then snuck a fry off Archer’s plate and winked. Their thighs touched again.

“You heading to the cabin tonight?” Archer asked.

“Yup.” An easy grin stretched across Caleb’s face. “You?”