Mount Horizon — Behind the Lodge, Dusk

The evening air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and river water. The rest of the group was still inside the lodge, loud with games and music, but you and Scott had slipped out “for air.”

Air wasn’t what you wanted.

You were pressed against the wooden siding of the lodge, Scott’s hands braced on either side of your shoulders, his body leaning into yours. His kiss was urgent, messy, the kind born of arguments and apologies tangled into one.

You clutched at the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer, biting back a laugh as his lips trailed down to your jaw. He muttered something low — half-tease, half-growl — and you kissed him harder, the kind of kiss that made you forget the rules, forget the people inside, forget everything except him.

Until—

“Hey! What the hell?”

The voice snapped you apart like cold water.

Scott whipped around, breathless, hair mussed, lips red from kissing. You glanced over his shoulder — and there stood Peter, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, looking about two seconds away from giving a lecture. Behind him, Auggie and Shelby peeked out the door, smirking, whispering to each other.

Your face burned.

Scott scrubbed a hand through his blond hair, trying to play it cool, though the pink flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “We were just—”

“Don’t,” Peter cut in, shaking his head with that mix of amusement and authority. “Save it. You know the rules.”

Scott looked back at you, biting down on a smile he couldn’t quite hide. His blue eyes flickered with defiance — and maybe a little pride.

Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Inside. Both of you. Now.”

As you and Scott shuffled back toward the lodge, your hands brushed, fingers intertwining for half a second before pulling apart.

He leaned close, whispering just for you:

“Worth it.”

And the grin tugging at his lips told you he’d probably do it again tomorrow.