"Is this... happening?"
I blinked twice at the dead porch light, then turned to look at the house.
Pitch. Freaking. Black.
"Did the power just go out?" I asked, blinking at the sudden darkness.
Jaxon tilted his head. "Either that, or we're being haunted."
"Not funny."
He smirked. "You say that, but you're already scooting closer."
"I am not— okay fine, maybe a little. But only because I don't want to trip and fall off the porch!"
Lightning cracked in the distance. Followed by thunder. Great. A freaking storm too?
We stood there awkwardly for a moment, both staring into the darkness like it might explain itself. Then Jaxon turned toward me, his voice suddenly serious.
"Okay, new rule."
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of rule?"
"If we die in this blackout storm apocalypse, I get to tell you how hot you looked in that swimsuit."
I elbowed him in the ribs. "Too soon."
He just laughed and grabbed his phone, flipping on the flashlight. "C'mon, let's check the fuse box or whatever. I think it's in the basement."
The basement. Of course.
I followed him reluctantly, using my own phone for light. Each step downstairs creaked like we were in some low-budget horror film.
"Okay, if a demon shows up, I'm sacrificing you first," I said.
"Wow. No hesitation. True love."
The basement was musty and full of storage bins. Jaxon found the fuse box and started flipping switches like he vaguely knew what he was doing.
I watched his back muscles flex under his shirt and immediately hated myself.
> You are not checking him out during a blackout.
You are not the dumb girl in a romcom.
You are smart. Emotionally stable. Immune to abs.
"Found it!" he said, right before every light flickered on.
I sighed in relief. "Thank god."
Then the lights immediately shut back off.
"False alarm," Jaxon muttered.
We stood there, just two people in the dark, sweating slightly, hearts racing—not because of the blackout anymore, but because of the tension.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hmm?"
"What if we weren't just childhood friends anymore?"
My brain short-circuited.
"What if we just... stopped fighting it?" he added.
The silence between us was louder than the storm.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My mouth was dry, and my heart was pounding like I'd run a marathon. He was so close I could feel the warmth from his skin.
And then—before I could answer—
His hand brushed mine.
I flinched slightly. Not because I was scared. But because it felt like too much.
Like touching him might burn me alive.
I looked up at him in the dim flashlight glow.
And he looked at me like he already knew all my secrets.
"You don't want this," I whispered.
"You don't get to tell me what I want."
"I don't want to get hurt again."
"I'm not here to hurt you, Zoey."
His hand slid gently into mine.
And even though every part of me screamed don't do this, I didn't pull away.
Instead, I leaned in.
One inch.
Then two.
And then—
BAM.
The power flicked back on.
Bright, blinding light flooded the basement, and we both flinched like vampires.
I immediately yanked my hand back.
Jaxon blinked. "Okay. Rude timing, universe."
I backed up a step. "We should, uh, get upstairs."
He nodded, voice unreadable. "Yeah. Sure."
We didn't say much after that. Just walked back up in silence, like two kids who'd almost made a terrible—or wonderful—mistake.
---
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling fan, heart still thumping.
What the hell was that?
He was getting too close. Too fast. And I didn't like it.
Or maybe I did.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was, summer flings were supposed to be dumb. Harmless. Not real.
And Jaxon was starting to feel dangerously real.
---
The next morning, Skye barged into my room before I even got out of bed.
"I heard the power went out," she said, already suspicious.
I groaned. "Ugh. Who told you?"
"Your mom. And Jaxon. And the group chat. But more importantly—did anything happen?"
"No."
"Zoey."
"Okay, almost."
Her eyes lit up. "Shut up. You almost kissed?!"
"No! We were just... close. It was a moment. And then the lights came on and ruined it."
She jumped on the bed like a child. "This is better than reality TV."
"It's not a romance, Skye. It's an accident waiting to happen."
"Or it's fate. You and Jaxon have that enemies-to-lovers vibe."
I pulled the blanket over my head. "Kill me now."
"Or hear me out," she said, poking me through the covers. "Maybe this is what you needed. You've been stuck since Ryan—"
"Don't say his name."
She paused. "Okay. But still. You've been guarding your heart like it's a vault. Maybe Jaxon is your key."
"Wow," I said, peeking out. "That's poetic. Did you steal that from Tumblr?"
She just grinned and flopped beside me. "Shut up and admit you like him."
I didn't say anything.
Because not saying it was easier than admitting the truth.
---
Later that day, Jaxon and I ran into each other in the kitchen again. This time, he wasn't shirtless. But he was still annoyingly cute.
"Morning," he said.
I nodded. "Morning."
"You good?"
"Yup."
"Cool."
We stared at each other for a second too long. Then both turned away at the same time.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "So about last night—"
"Forget it."
"No, but—"
"I said forget it, Jaxon."
He looked like he wanted to say more. But he didn't. Instead, he walked past me, out the back door, without another word.
I stood there, heart aching in a way that made me really hate myself.
Because I was the one who'd pulled away.
But part of me wondered…
> What if I didn't?