“And right now?”
He looked at me for a long moment.“Right now, I’m just enjoying this.Like I can just be here with you and it’s enough.”
The words hit low in my stomach and lingered there long after.
Evenings at the lake blurred soft and golden.
The guys raced into the water, yelling, shoving, laughing like kids.Kenzie would sunbathe on the dock, pretending to read.I’d sit with my feet in the shallows, trying and failing to pretend I wasn't watching Nate.He’d dive under, surface, grin at me with water dripping down his chest.Once, he climbed up between my legs on the dock, all warmth and mischief, droplets sliding from his hair down my thighs.
“You’re burning,” he murmured, thumb brushing over my shoulder where the sun had kissed me red.
“Maybe I like it hot,” I whispered.
He tilted his head, eyes dark.“You don’t say.”
Later that night, I found a bottle of aloe on my porch and a note that read:In case you need to cool down.
Sometimes, he’d show up mid-day.Tailgate down.Takeout spread out.Like he’d been waiting for me to look up.
“How do you always know where I am?”I asked once.
“Turned on location sharing,” he said easily.
I stared at him.“You’re serious?”
He just smirked.“I like knowing you’re safe.”
And that was it.Just that.No games.No grand gesture.
Just a man who wanted to make sure I came home every night.
And I think that’s when I started to really fall.
At night, we’d talk until one of us fell asleep mid-sentence.
Sometimes it was light, full of teasing and laughter.
Sometimes it was quiet, with shared breaths, dreams, moments, and stillness.
Once, he said, “You feel like home, Tessa.”
And I didn’t know what to do with that, so I whispered, “Goodnight, Nate,” and let his words sit between us like a promise.
The days slipped by in colour and heat, sunburns and ice drills, dirt and lake water, laughter and quiet that felt peaceful.And with each one, I felt myself pulled deeper.
When he kissed me, really kissed me, slow and certain, hands in my hair like he was memorizing the shape of me, I forgot to breathe.Forgot every reason why this might be temporary.All I knew was the warmth of his mouth and the ache of wanting it again.
The way his finger would find my belt loop when he wanted to pull me close.How he loved to pull my hair loose from my braid at the end of a long day.How the quiet moments with him never felt empty, they felt full.
Now, sitting on my porch swing, with rose coloured glasses, I think about all the little moments that led here.
The way his laughter sounds like my happy place.
The way my name sounds different from his mouth.
The way he looks at me like I’m somethingfound.
The way our kisses all seem to mean something different, and yet all point to the same thing.
