The sun is relentless, and the pool is packed, but your friends insisted.

"Vitamin D and hot strangers," Bri said this morning, tossing your bikini at you. "It's called wellness."

Now you're half-lounging, half-melting on a pool chair, sipping something cold and questionably alcoholic from a neon cup. Your sunglasses are on, your legs are still damp from a quick dip, and your hair is doing whatever it wants.

"Okay, okay, I'm calling it," she says, sitting up straighter. "Three o'clock. Beard. Blue trunks. That's your type."

"You don't know my type."

"Dad bod, tired eyes, looks like he gives good hugs."

"...Shut up."

But you are watching him. You can't help it.

You glance-subtly, or so you think.

He's standing at the edge of the pool, talking to a guy who might be his brother, towel slung over one shoulder. He's tall, but not in a trying-too-hard way. Broad shoulders, dad bod you'd absolutely nap on, and a face that's way too handsome for how low-effort he's being. Beard, smile, a little sunburn on the tops of his cheeks. There's something easy about the way he moves. Like he's not checking himself in the reflection of his sunglasses every five minutes like half the other guys here.

You look away quickly.

"See?" Bri grins. "You did the double-blink."

"I did not do the double-blink."

Jess sips her drink and nods. "You definitely did."

"Okay, but..." you pause. "Yeah, he's hot."

"Oh my God," Bri gasps. "You admit it."

"She admits it!" Jess repeats like you're on trial.

You laugh, but your cheeks are warm-and not just from the sun.

You try not to look again. But he makes it hard.

He glances your way. You're sure of it this time. A flicker of eye contact through the noise and sunlight. His smile lingers.

And Bri gasps.

"Oh my God. He looked at you."

"He did not."

"He did. He totally did. Jess, back me up."

"I saw it," Jess says, too quickly. "It was hot."

"Are we witnessing a slow-burn poolside romance?" Bri asks. "Because I need a front-row seat."

"Guys," you hiss, laughing despite yourself. "Stop."

"Okay, but real talk," Bri says, turning toward you, conspiratorial. "You should at least go ask him what kind of sunscreen he uses. Or pretend you dropped something near him."

"Like what? My dignity?"

Jess giggles. "Girl, that sank to the bottom of the pool three glances ago."

You shake your head and stand, adjusting your swimsuit. "I'm getting in the pool before this conversation gets worse."

"Tell him we say hi!" Bri calls after you.

You slip into the pool again, swimming lazy laps near the deep end. Floating. Thinking.

Then-like he just wandered into your little orbit-he's suddenly there. Closer than before. Leaning on the side of the pool, arms resting on the edge. His eyes flick to you. He doesn't look away.

"Water's nice," he says.

It's small talk. But it hangs in the air like an invitation.

"Yeah," you reply, "except the parts that feel suspiciously warm."

He laughs, eyes crinkling. "You just made me paranoid."

"You should be."

There's a pause. Not awkward. Just long enough to feel charged.

The silence is then broken by Bri: "We're getting fries-should we grab an order for the newlyweds or what?!"

Joel's grin turns smug. "So... newlyweds, huh?"

"Okay, I'm actually going to drown myself now."

He shakes his head. "Too late. You're stuck with me. Fry date and everything."

You glance up at him. He's close now. Closer than before. Still smiling, but it's softer. Real.

"Yeah?" you say. "You up for that?"

"Only if you promise not to blink too fast again. I don't think I can handle the intensity."

And you can hear your friends cheering from the snack bar like you've just won something.

Maybe you have.