We’d been planning this trip for weeks—camping, a day at the waterpark, then horseback riding the next morning. I had no idea how it would turn out, but as I sat next to Benny by the campfire, roasting marshmallows, I couldn’t help but smile. The night air was crisp, the stars so bright above us, but it was the easy silence between us that made it all feel right.

"Bet you can't get your marshmallow just right," Benny teased, poking at his own skewer, his grin mischievous.

"Is that a challenge?" I raised an eyebrow, reaching for another marshmallow.

"Definitely," he said, leaning closer, his breath warm on my ear. “I’ll even bet you that I can beat you at the waterpark tomorrow.”

"You think so?" I laughed, but the way his eyes were locked on mine, full of confidence and something else, made my heart skip a beat. Benny wasn’t the type to lose, and I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

We spent the evening trading jokes, daring each other to dive into the cold river just to cool off, and even doing goofy impressions to make each other laugh. But with every quiet moment between us, the line between friends and something more blurred a little more.

The next day, we hit the waterpark, and Benny’s competitive nature came out in full force. We raced down slides, laughed until our stomachs ached, and even shared a few daring moments under the water. But there was something different in the way he looked at me, like he was seeing me in a new light.

Afterward, when we were heading to horseback riding, Benny stood close to me as we walked to the stables. His fingers brushed mine for the briefest second, and I swear my heart nearly stopped.

"You alright?" Benny asked, his tone quieter than usual.