The breeze kissed my neck, or maybe it was him.
“Eyes on the lake,” he said softly. “Pretend I’m not here.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Impossible.”
But I did it.
I turned toward the lake, the golden light of the sunset washing over the rippling water like fire over silk. I breathed it in. The scent of pine and mint . Earthier.
Him.
He was quiet for a while—just the sound of his pencil scratching gently across the page, the wind tousling the edges of the blanket, and my heart trying not to leap out of my chest.
I could feel his eyes on me. Studying. Wanting.
The heat between us grew thick. Not heavy. Not suffocating. Just present. Like a storm you could smell before it broke.
He shifted closer.
“Hold still,” he whispered, leaning in. His fingers slid up to gently tuck a lock of hair
