He scoops me up and spins me in a dizzying circle over his head before throwing me back into the pool. We splash and shriek and wrestle like kids who have forgotten how to be guarded. He springs up out of nowhere and catches me, laughing as his fingers close around mywaist. I squirm out of his grip with a giggle and dive under again, swimming toward the edge of the pool like it might save me from the way his hands felt on my skin.
Leaning against the smooth rock ledge, I catch my breath. Declan joins me, his arm brushing mine as he settles in next to me.
“Okay,” he says after a beat. “Important question.”
I snort. “Shoot.”
“Truth or dare?”
I laugh so hard I can’t speak for a second. “Umm, truth.”
He tilts his head, gaze softening. “All right. Tell me the thing you’re most ashamed of. Something you wouldn’t tell your best friend.”
“We’re really getting into it, aren’t we?” I force a wobbly smile. The reflex to deflect—tell a cute story, make a joke—bubbles up, but I push it right back down. “Nessa,” I say finally, voice low. “I filled her with empty affirmations and let her think that’s what it meant to be brave. I wanted validation more than I wanted to make sure she was safe.”
He looks at me like he can see the scaffolding I built to hold myself upright, all the props and pretty rituals, and he doesn’t flinch.
“Okay, your turn,” I say, teasing, even though my voice is shaky at the edges. “Tell me something vulnerable so I don’t feel like I’m doing an emotional trust fall by myself.”
“There’s not much to say.” He shrugs.
“That can’t be true.” I dig my toes into the sand and watch our ripples join on the surface of the water. “Tell me how Declan Thorne became Declan Thorne.”
After a quiet, thoughtful moment he says, “My life’s been planned out since before I was born. My mom couldn’t carry a baby to term. My parents eventually had to use a surrogate, but enough time passed, enough miscarriages happened… I think she felt safer making sure every aspect of my life was mapped out. Like she was ensuring my survival by making me tick these achievement boxes. To me, all it’s done is turned life into a task, leached the color from the world, turned everything into shades of gray.”
He draws in a breath. Lets it out slowly.
“My dad lives to make my mom happy. I swear he’s only in my life to be sure I follow the script, close the deals, hit the metrics, live for her happiness too.”
A dragonfly lands on the water, spreads its iridescent wings, then takes off again.
“That’s why no more rock climbing.”
“You remember that.” His smile lifts his stubbled cheeks, and the bright blue water reflects like starbursts in the dark pools of his eyes. “Yeah, my mom found out I was really into climbing. I was good at it too. My dad made sure to put a stop to that.” He splashes his face with a handful of water and shakes it off. “Parents, right? No matter how old you get, they always have a hold over you.”
“They’re not here now. As far as we know, they literally don’t exist in this world.” I shift, water lapping at my collarbone. “So, right now, what do you want out of life? To find some big rocks or—”
“You, Amanda. I want to be here. With you.”
Our eyes meet, and a delicate hush settles over us. One wrong move could shatter it. One right move could change everything.
Slowly, he reaches across the inches between us and threads his fingers through mine. His thumb presses into my knuckles in a small, steady punctuation as he draws me in until our bodies meet.
“Why?” I whisper. “Why do you want to be here with me?”
“You’ve turned my black-and-white world Technicolor.”
His hands slide down my waist. They pause at my hips, fingers curling into the softness. Then he moves lower, brushing over the curve of my ass in a way that makes my pulse skip.
He lifts me, pinning my back to the smooth ledge of the pool. Water trickles down my shoulders as I straddle his waist, the heat of his body flooding into me through every slick point of contact. His hands anchor just above my thighs, thumbs grazing the delicate knots of linen tied at my hips. His eyes search mine, steady and molten and terrifying because of how much they see.
I’m trembling, and it has nothing to do with the cool brush of air on my wet skin.
Declan’s lips touch mine, and I fall into the kiss like kindling catching flame. A flare of heat, sudden and wild and hungry, licks up my spine, curls under my ribs, sparks between my legs. His mouth is warm and sure, every pass of his tongue over mine burning through me.
My body arches instinctively, mouth parting on a soft gasp that he swallows like a secret.
I braid my fingers into his wet hair, and his hands tighten at my hips, pulling me impossibly closer.
