The place was beautiful with the waterfall and trees. Families picnicked on the shore like an image from an RV travel magazine. But the view in front of him took his breath away. Propped on her forearms, her face free of makeup and skin slick with sunscreen, Joy was a vision. And keeping his gaze eye level was proving to be a challenge. Everything that wasn’t covered by those two triangle scraps of turquoise was visible for anyone to see. For him to see.

She was beautiful and he wished that he could tell her. But that would be crossing the friend-zone line, wouldn’t it? Dylan didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his pact with Joy. He didn’t want to wind up hitching a ride to the nearest rental car agency, driving east alone. Or worse, performing onstage without her in the audience. She also wasn’t a one-night fling. He respected her too much for a wham-bam-thank-you screw.

Yep. He’d arrived at the conclusion last night. His interest in her had moved beyond simple friendship. He handled his anxiety better when she was there. She helped him focus, like Billie had when he was a kid, after Jack, with his sweet talk and roaming hands, would manipulate his mom into agreement. Let Dylan onstage with him. The more he performs, the better he’ll learn to handle his shit.

Dylan rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sounds of the waterfall and kids splashing receded to white noise in the background. He felt himself drift, chasing the zzzs Joy had stolen from him that morning when she woke him up.

A shadow fell over him. He opened his eyes and held his hand against the glare. Joy stood over him.

“I’m going in.” She didn’t wait. She waded into the water, dipped her head back to drench her hair, then swam to the center of the swimming hole. Treading water, she watched kids play under the waterfall. He watched her.

She laughed when a boy dunked his younger brother only to get splashed back, and his chest tightened in reaction to her smile. He wanted to be out there with her. He wanted to be next to her where he could hear her laugh rather than recall the musical sound from memory. Rising, he waded to his knees, then cut through the water. He felt immediate relief, from the sun and from fighting his desire.

Dylan surfaced behind Joy, inhaling a large breath as he did. A sheet of water crashed into his face. He sputtered and coughed.

“What the hell?” He laughed, pinching water from his eyes. She was grinning at him when he opened them.

“Don’t be a killjoy and tell me ‘no splashing.’”

He held up his hands. “I won’t. How’d you know I was coming?”