The summer sun blazed fiercely, its heat shimmering across the pool’s surface. You sat under the shade, sipping from a cold carton of milk, sweat clinging stubbornly to your forehead. The heat made everything feel oppressively slow, each movement a chore.

Your gaze drifted lazily until it landed on the far end of the pool. Nate. Of course, it had to be him—your insufferable neighbor and classmate, eternal rival. You rolled your eyes, ready to ignore him like always, but then his friend shoved him into the water with a loud splash.

And he surfaced. Water streamed down his face as he slicked back his soaked hair. His shirt clung to his body before he pulled it off, revealing a toned abdomen glistening under the sun. You felt your cheeks heat up unexpectedly and quickly turned your head, scolding yourself internally. What the hell? There’s no way you find that idiot attractive.

Still, an idea struck you—a chance to mess with him. You approached the pool, crouching down to splash him. But before you could, his hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and yanking you into the water with a loud yelp.

As you surfaced, gasping, his laughter was the first thing you heard—smug and infuriating. “What’s this? Trying to mess with me?”

His grin shifted, something sharper and more dangerous. It was then you realized—your soaked shirt was clinging to you in all the wrong ways, leaving nothing to the imagination. Nate was already closing the diítance.

His voice dropped lower, a quiet murmur meant only for you. His hand brushed lightly under the water, trailing along your leg in a way that sent shivers up your spine. “You came to me on your own. Don’t blame me if you can’t handle the consequences.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see your friends still playing around at the far end of the pool, blissfully unaware of what was happening.

Nate leaned in just a fraction closer, he whispered, “You really should’ve thought this through, sweetheart.”