“Night, Jackson.”
Jackson ended the call and set his phone on the nightstand. He reached for the remote, planning to unwind with a hunting video from one of his favorite YouTube creators—the kind of guy who showed every detail of his trips: what gear he packed, how he set up camp, even how he cooked meals over the fire while filming. Jackson liked the simplicity and the quiet self-sufficiency of it. He also liked the idea of sharing it with someone one day. Someone who loved hiking, traveling, and getting off the grid.
He didn’t let himself imagine Zoe filling that spot, not really. But if their fake dating did involve a camping trip…yeah, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
He’d just pulled up the latest video when his phone dinged.
Zoe again? He smiled, half expecting her to overthink the post or follow up with a cheeky comment.
But when he checked the screen, it wasn’t her.
It was the group chat.
He usually ignored it—more apt to hit mute than reply—but tonight, something made him tap it open.
Madison: Jackson and Zoe—you’re dating?!
Zoe: That was fast.
Kit: I knew it! There is no way you two were that cute at Christmas and nothing was going on.
Jackson shook his head as the comments kept rolling in.
Liam: Bro. I literally just asked you and you said you were just friends. You let me find out on social media? Wounded.
Krista: Zoe already told me
Liam: WHAT?!
Cassidy:Group date!
Zoe hearted Cassidy’s message and replied with a laughing emoji on Liam’s.
Jackson shook his head, the screen casting a soft glow on his face.
Fake or not, they’d just become the talk of the town.
He tossed the phone onto the nightstand and leaned back against his pillow, the faint laughter of the group chat still echoing in his head. The room was dark except for the flicker of the quiet hunting video on his TV. The man was stirring chili over a campfire, the hiss of rain on canvas in the background. Jackson watched the flames dance, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.
He pictured Zoe instead, curled up in her soft bed, scrolling through the same thread, a grin tugging at her mouth. He could almost hear her laugh, that soft snort she tried to hide.
He told himself to focus on the video, on the gear, the fire, the quiet solitude he usually craved. But the room felt too still,too empty, as if the rain had washed all the sound from it but her laugh.
He wondered if she was thinking about him too.
He closed his eyes, letting the crackle of the campfire on the screen blend with the patter of real rain against the window.
He drew in a slow breath and let it out.
If he dreamed tonight, he hoped it would be of her, and that, somewhere across town, she’d be dreaming of him.
SEVEN
ZOE
Sunday, March 9th
Zoe told herself not to overthink anything that morning—which, naturally, meant she overthought everything. The way she styled her hair. The way her pulse skipped whenever she thought about Jackson showing up.
