"If you hiked all this way," Brooks says, ruffling a hand through his already messy hair, "there’s a cool little spring just up ahead. You could really sell the whole ‘nature escape’ vibe with it."
I squint at him. "Why are you always trying to help me?"
"Why are you always questioning my generosity?" He smirks before holding out a hand.
I eye it warily. "Is this a trap?"
"Only one way to find out."
Reluctantly, I take it. And in true Brooks fashion, he doesn’t just help me up, he yanks me forward, sending me straight into his chest.
"Oof—" I grunt as I collide with solid, stupidly warm pecs.
Brooks doesn’t move. Doesn’t step back. Doesn’t even pretend to be sorry. "Careful, Elowen. Wouldn’t want you to fall for me."
I shove him, but he doesn’t budge. "You’re impossible."
He clutches his chest like I’ve mortally injured him. "You wound me, Ellie."
"So, we’re back to Ellie?"
"It suits you."
I roll my eyes, motioning for him to lead the way. "Fine. Show me this so-called ‘magical’ spring."
"Cold water spring, here we come."
I let Brooks lead the way, camera in hand, making sure to get all the aesthetically pleasing shots. My pink tennis shoes crunching over dirt, a casual wave to my followers, and yes, even a clip of shirtless Brooks, because let’s be honest, he’s probably good for engagement.
What? I’m a businesswoman.
We reach the spring, and I actually stop to take it in.
A pool of crystal-clear water sits nestled between moss-covered rocks, the surface shimmering like glass beneath golden sunbeams filtering through the towering trees. Delicate strands of ivy and wildflowers spill over the boulders, creeping toward the water as if nature itself is reaching for a sip.
It’s breathtaking.
I lower my camera. "Okay, this is actually… really pretty."
This isn’t staged or filtered. And maybe that’s what makes it feel… real.
Brooks grins. "Told you." There’s a beat before he adds, "You want to go for a swim?"
I scoff. "I’m good. But go ahead."
Before I even finish my sentence, he’s already wading in.
I don’t film at first, but then, pure gold.
He dives under, then resurfaces dramatically, as he whips his head back, his hair slapping against his head.
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.
"Some boys never grow up," I murmur, shaking my head as I finally lift my camera.
Brooks, now standing in waist-deep water, swipes wet hair off his forehead and grins up at me. "Are you sure you don’t want to come in?"
I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me.
