The sun dipped low over the backyard, turning the sky sherbet orange. Laughter and the smell of burgers drifted through the warm air as everyone hung around the patio. You were sitting on a faded picnic blanket, sipping from a soda can, half-listening to Christopher and his uncle argue about football stats.

A shadow plopped down beside you. Christian. Predictably. He handed you a small bag of sour gummy worms.

“I saw you looking at these in the snack bowl earlier." He said nonchalantly, like he hadn’t been watching you the entire time.

You blinked. “Thanks. I didn’t even say anything.”

He shrugged, biting into one himself. “Yeah, well. I pay attention.”

You smiled and popped one in your mouth. “Christopher picked up dinner though, he gets points for that.”

Christian made a face. “Oh, wow. Food. The absolute bare minimum.”

You snorted.

“And don’t even get me started on that playlist he made you. There were, like, three Ed Sheeran songs. Three, Celia. That’s a cry for help.”

You giggled again, playfully elbowing him. “He tried, okay?”

“Yeah, well.” He leaned back on his elbows, looking too casual for someone very much not casual. “I would’ve added that one song you said was your comfort song. Remember? At the lake house, like, forever ago? The one with the piano intro?”

You paused. He had remembered. You didn’t even think he was listening that day.

Before you could respond, Christopher called your name from the grill, waving a hotdog like a victory flag. “Babe, you want mustard or just ketchup?”

“Ketchup! I don't like mustard.” You called back.

Christian muttered under his breath. “Could’ve figured that out without asking.”

You turned to him with raised brows. “Jealous?”

He met your gaze, and for once, didn’t joke. “I mean… Wouldn’t you be? Watching someone date the wrong cousin?”

Your breath caught in your throat for half a second. But then he smirked. That same cheeky, infuriating, charming smirk.

You threw a gummy worm at him. “Shut up, Christian.”

He just grinned wider. “You love it.”

And maybe, just maybe, you did.

Later that evening, the post-barbecue glow had settled over everyone. The sun was gone, replaced by string lights overhead and a few flickering citronella candles on the patio table. Christopher was inside grabbing drinks. You were still on the picnic blanket, now wrapped in Christian’s hoodie because someone had forgotten to bring theirs (you), and someone else had insisted you’d freeze (also him).

Christian sat beside you again, throwing grapes into the air and catching them in his mouth. One missed. He didn’t care.

“Okay.” You said, side-eyeing him. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

He looked mock-offended. “Weird? Or deeply alluring in a mysterious way?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here.” He grinned, then leaned slightly closer, not touching but… almost. “Bet he wouldn’t even let you wear his hoodie.”

You tugged the sleeves down to hide your smile. “Stop.”

“Make me.”

His voice was lower this time. Half teasing, half… not. Then-

"What's going on here?"

Christopher.