“Come over here.”
I blink. “What?”
She gestures again. “Come over here.”
Water crashes against the rock beside her, sending a fine spray into the pool.
I hesitate. Because getting closer to Charlotte means… getting closer to Charlotte.
But refusing would be strange. And she’s still watching me.
So I push off and start toward her.
Each stroke closes the distance. And with each one, that quiet tension in the back of my mind tightens a little more.
She’s waiting for me under the waterfall, completely unaware of how this feels for me.
By the time I reach her, the water is churning where the stream hits the rock. We stand there for a moment, letting it pound down over our shoulders.
Charlotte tilts her head back, letting the water run through her hair.
It’s an ordinary thing, but it hits harder than it should.
Blond strands cling to her neck and shoulders before slipping down her back, the water tracing along her collarbone and the curve of her throat. She lifts a hand to push it away, fingers combing through as the stream keeps pouring over her.
It’s nothing. Something I’ve seen countless times. But it doesn’t feel like nothing now.
My chest tightens, and I drag my gaze toward the rocks before it lingers too long.
“Feels good, right?”
“Yeah. It does.” But it also feels like torture.
Standing this close to her feels like holding my hand over a flame and pretending it doesn’t burn.
She shifts beside me, and something dark moves in the water near the rocks.
Charlotte spots it.
“Dane—”
Before I can even look, she jerks back with a gasp and lunges straight at me. Her arms lock around my shoulders, her legs wrapping tight around my waist as she clings on.
“What is it?” I grab hold of her, steadying us both on the slick rock.
“Snake!”
I glance past her toward the water.
A long stick drifts lazily by, turning in the current.
I stare at it for a second. Then back at her.
“It’s a stick.”
She goes still. “What?”
“It’s a stick.”
