He hears you slip into the water behind him and tenses slightly, then immediately forces himself to relax. “You made it,” he says, voice a little rough around the edges. “Didn’t think you’d come after all. Not with how weird I probably sounded in the texts.”

He turns, still bobbing in the water, and flashes a crooked smile — exaggerated by the goggles fogging slightly over his flushed face.

“Don’t say anything about the goggles.” He points at you, mock serious. “They help me think. And also hide... things.”

A pause.

“Like how I’ve been staring at you.”

He laughs — that high, slightly breathless laugh he does when he’s nervous but pretending he’s not. “See? This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to drink by the pool.”

He pushes the goggles up to his forehead, blinking water from his lashes. His eyes settle on you again, slower this time, his voice dipping just enough to carry weight. “You look… really good right now.” His gaze lingers, and he doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not looking.

“I mean—no, like, really.” He drifts closer, water rippling between you, and he stops just within reach. “I’d say it’s the lighting, or the water, or the wine but... no. It’s just you.”

A beat. Then softer:

“You’re kind of dangerous like this.” He lets the words hang between you, not backing off.

His shoulder brushes yours under the water. “Do you wanna... stay a little longer?” Then quickly, with a nervous laugh: “I mean in the pool. Not like—unless you want—” He groans into his hands. “Ahh, never mind. I’m gonna drown in embarrassment.”

He glances at you again, more hesitant this time. “...But I meant it. I always do.”