I buried my face in my hands. “I’m going to walk into the lake now.”
He was laughing. Quietly, but it was real.
And I couldn’t help it. I peeked through my fingers and laughed, too.
Because if I were going to be a disaster, at least I was acommittedone.
And somehow, despite everything, he hadn’t walked away.
The fire crackled softly, sending little sparks up into the night, as if it were showing off. The stars were out in full force, scattered across the dark canvas above us, and for a moment, the world felt like it had tilted into somethingstill. Gentle. Perfectly suspended.
Ben sat with his long legs stretched out toward the fire, marshmallow stick in hand, and the barest shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. Real, unforced. Quiet, but there.
I was so distracted by it that I nearly burned my marshmallow.
He caught it immediately. “That one’s a goner.”
“Sacrificial,” I said, blowing on the charred blob. “For the marshmallow gods.”
His smile twitched higher. “Very noble of you.”
“I’m brave like that.”
We worked in silence for a minute, poking and toasting, the smell of smoke and sugar wrapping around us like a blanket. My nerves had quieted, mostly. Every now and then, I remembered the tripping, the accidental stripping comment, thewhole planner incident,and a flush would crawl back up my neck like a stubborn rash.
But then I’d glance at him, and he wasn’t looking at me like I’d mortified myself beyond repair.
He was justlooking.
Like he didn’t mind being here.
Like he was… present.
And that alone made my chest ache in the best, most complicated way.
I licked chocolate off my thumb, trying not to feel completely aware of the way he watched me do it.
“You know,” I said, “for someone who claims to be anti-social and emotionally unavailable, you’re dangerously close to enjoying yourself.”
He raised a brow. “Dangerously close?”
“You might even, dare I say,likebeing here.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Oh, I’m going to push it.”
He glanced sideways at me, lips curving slowly. “You always this persistent?”
“I’m a professional hospitality expert. Relentlessness is in the job description.”
“Right.” He leaned forward, carefully sandwiching his marshmallow. “Well, you’re good at it.”
“Flattery,” I said, mock-serious. “Unprompted. That’s suspicious.”
“Just calling it like I see it.”
I tore my eyes away from him, tried to focus on my s’more, and failed miserably. The heat from the fire had nothing on the electricity building between us.
