"Are you gonna get off me or…?"
Jaxon was still on top of me, one arm propping him up, the other wrapped halfway around my waist like he forgot how physics worked. His chest was practically glued to mine, and I swear I could feel every breath he took.
"I mean," I said, trying (and failing) to sound normal, "if you're planning to crush me to death, at least buy me dinner first."
He didn't move right away.
Instead, he just stared down at me with this unreadable look—half amused, half something else I didn't want to name.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low.
"Oh, I'm great. Just having a casual heart attack. Normal stuff."
His lips twitched like he was fighting back a grin. "Glad I could be of service."
And then—finally—he rolled off me, landing on the boardwalk with a dramatic oof. I sat up, face flaming.
We were now lying side by side, looking up at the sky like two dumb teenagers in a coming-of-age movie. A few people around us were still staring, but Jaxon just waved like he'd fallen on purpose.
"Tell me you did not just enjoy that," I muttered.
He turned his head toward me. "Define enjoy."
"Jaxon."
"Okay, fine. I give it a strong eight out of ten. Would crash into you again."
I groaned and covered my face. "This is my villain origin story."
After that romantic faceplant, we limped back toward the parking lot. I was limping because I twisted my ankle a little; Jaxon was limping from laughing so hard he gave himself a cramp.
"Don't tell Skye," I said.
"Oh, I'm absolutely telling Skye."
"I will end you."
He just grinned like I'd complimented him.
We drove home in near-silence—except for my angsty indie playlist that Jaxon mocked the entire ride.
"Seriously, Zoey? Who hurt you?"
"You did. Repeatedly."
Once home, I all but crawled into the kitchen for water. My body hurt in places I didn't even know existed.
Jaxon walked in behind me, still in a stupidly good mood. "You sure you're okay? Your face hit the ground pretty hard."
"Yours hit me pretty hard, so we're even."
He leaned against the counter, watching me. "You know, you could've just said you missed me. Crashing into me seemed like a bit much."
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly left orbit. "Wow. Modest and delusional. Impressive combo."
But deep down, somewhere beneath the sarcasm and sass, my brain was whispering things like:
> He smelled really good.
His arms were... not bad.
You definitely stared too long.
Nope. Shut up, brain. This wasn't a rom-com.
Except… it kind of was.
That night, Skye FaceTimed me the second I got into bed.
"You fell on top of each other?" she shrieked.
"It wasn't romantic. It was clumsy. Very unsexy."
"I bet he made it sexy," she said, sipping from her BTS cup.
"No, he—well. Maybe a little. But it was mostly painful."
She smirked. "Zoey, sweetie. You're so obviously into him it's painful to watch."
"I am not."
"You blushed."
"Because I fell!"
She cackled like a witch. "Right. You fell. Into love."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't. You just hate that I'm right."
I ended the call before she could roast me further. Then I flopped onto my pillow and screamed into it.
The worst part? Skye was right. A tiny part of me—some irrational, mushy, traitorous part—was starting to see Jaxon in a new light. Not just the annoying neighbor or childhood friend who turned hot while I wasn't looking.
But someone who could make me laugh when I didn't want to.
Someone who made falling (literally and emotionally) feel like maybe it wouldn't kill me.
No. Nope. No feelings. Not this summer.
I had rules.
And Rule #1?
No catching feelings.
---
The next day, I had one goal: avoid Jaxon at all costs.
But apparently, Jaxon hadn't gotten the memo. Because when I came downstairs, he was already there—on the couch, shirtless, eating cereal like a menace.
"Morning, sunshine," he said through a mouthful.
"Put on a shirt," I snapped. "This isn't an Abercrombie ad."
"Relax," he said. "We've literally already been chest to chest. This is nothing."
"Can you not say that out loud?"
He grinned. "You're still thinking about it, huh?"
"I'm thinking about committing a felony."
"I think about you too."
I launched a throw pillow at him.
Later that afternoon, Skye dragged me to the pool.
"I need sunshine, and you need therapy," she said. "Let's compromise with sunbathing and gossip."
So we did just that. Laid out on pool chairs, sipped iced lemonades, and ignored the world. That is, until he showed up.
Jaxon. Shirtless. Again.
Of course he did.
"What the hell?" I whispered.
Skye grinned like a maniac. "I may have invited him."
"You what?!"
"I needed entertainment."
Jaxon sauntered over, tossing his towel beside mine like he was claiming territory. "Ladies."
I glared at Skye. She sipped her lemonade like nothing was happening.
"Wow, you just happen to be shirtless at every possible opportunity," I muttered.
"I like the sun. Sue me."
"You're gonna get sunburnt."
He leaned in slightly. "Worried about me?"
"I'm worried about you blinding people."
He laughed, then leaned back and closed his eyes. His skin glistened under the sun, and I hated how he looked like a damn beach god.
I, on the other hand, was sweating, awkward, and very aware of how weird my swimsuit felt.
"So," Skye said. "Group beach trip next week? You in?"
"Absolutely," Jaxon said without opening his eyes.
"I didn't invite you," I snapped.
He opened one eye. "But I'm coming anyway."
---
By the time we got home, I was half dead from the heat and the flirting tension. I went straight upstairs to shower, trying to wash away the guilt of almost admiring Jaxon's biceps.
After dinner, I found him on the back porch, alone, staring at the sky.
"You good?" I asked, stepping outside.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About what?"
He hesitated, then looked at me. "Us."
My heart did a weird flip. "There is no 'us'."
"There could be."
I froze.
"What if," he said quietly, "we stopped pretending we didn't feel something?"
I stared at him, heart thudding in my chest.
But before I could respond—
The porch light flickered.
Then went out.
And the entire house behind us?
Total blackout.