Like how natural it felt to hand Lily a coffee mug without asking how she took it (black, one sugar). Or how his hand found the small of Lily’s back when they walked, an unconscious gesture that made his chest ache.
"Can I ask you something?"
They were on the porch again, dinner plates scraped clean, the sky doing its nightly performance of impossible colors. Alex had his arm around Lily's shoulders, her body tucked against his side like she belonged there.
He felt himself tense at her question. "Depends on what it is."
"Nothing heavy. I was just wondering..." Her fingers traced idle patterns on his knee, her voice deliberately casual. "What happens after? When your research trip is over. Do you go straight back to Boston?"
Don't do this. Don't make me think about it.
"Eventually," he managed. "There's paperwork to file, samples to process. The usual post-fieldwork bureaucracy." He shifted, trying to create distance without actually moving away. "Why?"
"Just curious. I realized I don't actually know what your life looks like when you're not stranded on islands with wayward influencers."
He huffed a laugh that sounded forced even to his own ears. "Exciting stuff. Lab work. Grant proposals. Occasional lectures that put studentsto sleep."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the answer."
Lily pulled back slightly, studying his face. He could feel her reading him—those green eyes too perceptive, too knowing. She'd learned him well enough by now to recognize when he was deflecting.
"Alex."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The words came out before he could stop them. "There's a position I've been considering. Research-focused, good funding, interesting work. The details are still being sorted out."
"A position where?"
Hawaii. Say it. Just tell her.
But the word lodged in his throat like a stone.
"Does it matter?"
He watched the question land, saw something flicker across her expression—hurt, maybe, or confusion. Her voice came out careful, measured. "I guess not. I was just asking."
"I know. I just—" He stopped, frustration coiling in his chest. At himself, mostly. At his inability to have asimple conversation like a normal human being. "I don't want to talk about what comes next. We agreed to stay present, remember?"
"We did."
"So let's do that."
He heard how it sounded—dismissive, closed off. The exact opposite of everything they'd built over the past week. He was retreating behind walls she'd spent days carefully dismantling, and he couldn't seem to stop himself.
What are you so afraid of?
He knew the answer. He was afraid of telling her about the job and watching her face fall. Afraid of admitting this had become something he didn't know how to walk away from. Afraid of wanting something—someone—he might lose.
"Okay," Lily said quietly. "Present it is."
Alex tightened his arm around her, pulling her back against his side. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to?—"
"It's fine."
"It's not. I'm just..." He exhaled heavily, searching for words that wouldn't come. "I'm not goodat this, Lily. Talking about feelings. Making plans that involve other people. My whole life has been about minimizing variables, and you're the biggest variable I've ever encountered."
Despite everything, she laughed. "Is that a compliment?"
