Echo glances at me. “This.”
I frown. “Sitting in silence?”
He nods.
“Why?”
“You said that was your favorite way to spend a day off.”
He remembered that?Of course he did. He remembers everything. Every throwaway comment. Every minor detail I’ve shared without thinking. He catalogs everything about me like some kind of fanatical Dahlia Delacruz historian.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, sinking my teeth into my lower lip to stop from smiling. “It is.”
We fall into a comfortable silence again. I keep my eyes on the water, but in my periphery, I’m hyperaware of everything about him. The way his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. The way his fingers tap against his knees. The way his gaze keeps drifting toward me when hethinks I’m not paying attention. I catch him looking more than once, but I pretend not to notice.
“Thank you.” I say quietly, my eyes catching his. “For being there for me last night. It wasn’t your problem to worry about, but you showed up anyway.”
“Your problems are my problems, Bambi.” He says quietly.
I glance at him, and his expression is as unreadable as ever, but when I look into his eyes, I can tell he means it. And that absolutely guts me.
Standing here by this beautiful lake, hearing him say things like that, it’s easy to forget what I overheard. Easy to pretend that this is harmless. But nothing about this feels harmless anymore.
“Well, either way.” I say, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. “Thanks.”
He nods and stares out at the lake again. I do the same, but my mind stays focused on him.
We sit there a while longer, saying nothing as the sun drifts lower and lower, until the sky starts to bleed with streaks of purple and gold. Shadows stretch across the water, and a cool breeze moves through the trees. I rub my hands over my arms, more out of instinct than anything, and beside me, Echo shifts.
“We should probably head back,” he says quietly.
I nod, glancing once more at the water before pushing to my feet. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Probably.”
We rise from the bench at the same time and accidentally head towards each other. For a moment, we stand there. Closer than we were on the bench, and even closer than we were in the car.
Echo reaches up to tuck a strand of hair out of my face, and when his fingers graze my neck, he lets them linger.
“Your pulse is racing again, Bambi.” He says, locking his eyes on mine.
He tilts my chin up and I swallow, knowing exactly where this is going.
Before today, I would’ve let this happen. I would’ve let Echo do whatever he wanted to me, and I would’ve convinced myself that I had it under control. But now I know none of this is under control, and that’s exactly why I have to stop it, even if it hurts.
I take a step back, averting my gaze as his hand falls to his side. My body mourns the loss of his touch immediately, and it takes everything in me not to lean back into him.
He looks at me, searching my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing. This feels too easy. Too good. Too much like the one thing I can’t let myself fall into and nothing like the friendship I’ve been trying to force us into.
Friends.That label doesn’t fit us anymore, and as I look up at him and feel that undeniable pull, I’m not even sure it ever did.
But maybe it needs to.
If I can shove us back into that box, I might still be able to control this. I can stop this now before it gets any worse.
“Sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “Still friends, right?”
I watch the way the word lands and see him process it. “Yeah,” he breathes, giving me a nod with his jaw tight. “Of course.”
