Amy’s POV
The road curved around tall trees and sleepy fields, the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky. Everything was golden and quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you feel like the world is finally giving you space to breathe. James had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on his knee. His window was down, and the wind kept tugging at his curls like it wanted to play.
We hadn’t talked much since the overlook. But we didn’t need to. The silence wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt… peaceful.
Eventually, he turned off onto a dirt path surrounded by pines. After a few minutes of bumpy driving and loose gravel, we pulled up to a small clearing. A lake stretched out beyond it, calm and glassy, surrounded by trees on every side. There was no one else in sight—just the still water and the whisper of leaves in the wind.
He parked and looked at me with a soft smile. “Come on. You need to see this barefoot.”
I laughed under my breath, but I kicked off my sneakers anyway and followed him toward the shore. The earth was warm under my feet, soft and cool in places. I was wearing one of his hoodies now—he had thrown it at me when I shivered in the Jeep. It was too big, the sleeves covering my hands, and it smelled like soap and something boyish that made my chest flutter.
When we reached the edge of the lake, he dipped a toe in and winced. “Okay. That’s freezing.”
I grinned. “You dragged me all the way out here and didn’t think to check the water?”
He turned to me, eyes glinting. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go in.”
Then—without warning—he splashed me.
A cold wave of water hit my legs, and I yelped, jumping back. “James!”
He laughed so hard he doubled over.
“Oh, it’s on now,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
I charged forward, kicking water back at him, and he stumbled with a mock gasp.
Within seconds, we were both soaked from the knees down, laughing like kids, chasing each other along the edge of the lake. The sun kept sinking, turning the water orange and pink, and the sky looked like it had been painted just for us.
When I lunged at him again, he dodged—then caught me.
Before I knew what was happening, he had his arms around my waist and was spinning me in the air. I squealed, clutching his shoulders, the world whirling past us in a blur of sky and laughter.
He finally set me down, both of us breathless, faces flushed from running and laughing too hard.
We collapsed onto the grass nearby, side by side, staring up at the clouds like we were the only two people left on earth. My heart was still racing, but not just from the running.
His hand was inches from mine.
His face even closer.
I could feel the warmth of him next to me, the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair curled just slightly at the ends. His shirt clung to his arms from where the water had splashed, and his eyes met mine like they had been waiting all day for me to look.
I turned toward him, and suddenly, there was no more space between the past and the present. Just him. Just this moment.
“This was supposed to be fake,” I whispered, the words trembling on my lips. “Remember?”
His gaze didn’t falter.
“I remember,” he said softly. “But I also remember your lips.”
He leaned in slowly, his hand brushing the grass beside mine, his eyes flickering between mine and my mouth. The world faded around us. The sounds, the sky, the lake—it all dissolved into the space between our faces, the almost of it all.
But I didn’t close the distance.
I placed a gentle hand on his chest, stopping him just before our lips could meet.
He froze, eyes searching mine.
“I need to be sure,” I said quietly, every word pulled from the deepest part of me. “Not for Charlie. Not to get back at anyone. Not for a photo, or a post, or a reaction.”
His face softened, and I felt his heartbeat beneath my palm.
“I need to be sure,” I repeated, “for me.”
He was silent for a beat.
Then he nodded, slow and steady, like he understood exactly what I meant.
“I’ll wait,” he said, his voice low and real. “But I won’t stop wanting you.”