“Fine.”
Totally not fine. Because this wasn’t like the other times. With other women, desire had been easy and uncomplicated. A good night, a warm body, a clean exit before his feelings, or hers, could ask more of him than he had to give. Even the relationships that had lasted longer had felt…manageable. Predictable in the way you could see the ending from the beginning.
Krista was none of that. He’d only met her on Tuesday. But already it felt like they knew each other so well. Like there was a “Before Krista” and an “After Krista” in his life. She made him crave things he’d trained himself not to want: routine, roots, the idea of showing up tomorrow and the day after that. And the worst part was how little control he had over it.
The trail opened, revealing a small bluff overlooking the lake. Mist hovered over the water. The sky was still a tender violet, the first threads of peach unfurling across the horizon. Joe exhaled, letting the calm settle around them.
“This is perfect,” she whispered.
He set down his bag. “Alright,” he said. “Before we shoot the sunrise, we meditate.”
Krista turned, blinking. “Wait—you were serious about that?”
“Of course.”
She groaned. “Joe. I haven’t meditated since that one app I downloaded and never opened. I don’t sit still.”
“You do today.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I came here to learn photography, not reach inner peace.”
He just smiled and dropped onto a flat patch of moss near the bluff’s edge, crossing his legs. “Come on. Five minutes. It’ll change yourwhole day.”
Krista muttered something about type-A personalities being incompatible with sitting still, but she dropped down beside him anyway.
He closed his eyes. “Just breathe. Feel your body. Let your thoughts come and go—no pressure to quiet anything. Just notice.”
She made it about three seconds before cracking one eye open.
He didn’t move. Just smiled slightly. “You’re not being graded. Try again.”
She huffed but obeyed. They sat like that, side by side. Birdsong filtered through the canopy. Wind rustled the leaves and the air smelled of wildflowers, pine, and earth.
He peeked once more. Her lips were parted. Her brow smooth. She looked peaceful even if she didn’t know it. This was what she didn’t let herself have—stillness.
When they finally opened their eyes, the sky was turning a softer purple. Soon rose and gold would be swirling in the clouds, painting the lake. Krista blinked and glanced over at him.
“That wasn’t as awful as I expected.”
He smirked. “High praise.”
She stood, brushing grass off her leggings. “Okay, Zen master. Now will you show me how to photograph the sunrise?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirked, moving quickly to set up his gear. “Okay, first lesson: Light moves fast at sunrise. You want to get your exposure set before the color shifts.”
Krista nodded, biting her lip as she adjusted a lens cap. Sunlight caught the edge of her braid. Her cheeks were pink from the cold. She was beautiful—soft, bright, alive. And all he could think, as the first gold touched the water, was how close he’d been last night. How close she’d been. How much he still wanted her.
Krista glanced up at him, eyes shimmering with reflected dawn. “What?” she asked softly.
Joe swallowed. “Nothing,” he lied.
Krista stood beside him, camera now steady in her grip, eyes on the horizon. The first blush of sun slipped over the tree line, gold touching her cheek.
She smiled. “This is kinda magical.”
He didn’t answer right away. Because yeah—it was. But it wasn’t the sunrise that had him feeling off-center. It was her. And the knowledge that by tonight, she’d be sleeping in his bed, and he’d be sleeping in hers.
Krista turned, her gaze catching his. “So,” she said slowly. “Today’s the start.”
