The same pull. The same impossible attraction that had been there since that summer when everything felt possible.
His face was inches from mine, close enough that I could count the breaths between us, could feel the warmth of him soaking into me like sunlight breaking through clouds.
This was dangerous.
This was the exact thing I’d been trying to avoid—the reason I’d deleted his number, the reason I’d told myself that summer was just confusion, just something that didn’t mean anything.
But it did mean something, it had always meant something.
Then, Alex’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
Everything stopped.
The server room. The script. The video. Noah’s voice asking questions I couldn’t hear anymore through the rushing in myears, through the pounding of my heart that felt like it was trying to break through my ribs.
All of it disappeared.
There was only this. Him. The impossible pull between us that I’d been fighting—the thing that kept me awake at night, the thing that made me look for him across the water during races, the thing that made my chest ache every time I saw him.
I should step back. Should put distance between us. Should remember why we were here, what we were risking, everything we stood to lose if anyone found out.
But I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breathe.
Alex leaned in.
Just slightly. Just a fraction of an inch. Just enough that I knew—if I closed the distance, he wouldn’t pull away. He’d meet me there. He wanted this too.
My heart was going to explode out of my chest.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, every instinct screaming at me to close the gap, to take what I wanted, to stop fighting this and just—
I leaned in too.
The space between us collapsed.
Our lips were almost touching. Almost. One more breath. One more second.
Chapter 16: Alex
His lips were right there.
Right. There.
Close enough that I could feel his breath, could taste the anticipation hanging between us like electricity about to arc, could feel the heat radiating off his body and soaking into mine until I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.
Every nerve ending in my body was screaming.
Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him.
Over a year. A year of pushing this down, locking it away, pretending Brackett Lake was just a summer mistake—telling myself I could be who my father wanted, who Kingswell expected, who the Harrington name demanded.
But I couldn’t.
Not anymore.
