The pool water was warm, the kind that clung to your skin like a second layer. Crickets chirped somewhere in the hedges, and the soft glow of garden lights turned the world golden around the edges. It was nearly midnight, the kind of late that made everything feel a little more possible, a little less safe.

Hughie floated on his back, eyes tracing constellations he didn’t know the names of. She was near the deep end, treading water and humming something under her breath. He watched her, thinking she looked like she belonged in this kind of light — summer-drenched and free, her hair slicked back, cheeks flushed from laughing too hard at his stupid cannonball.

“You’re quiet,” she said, swimming closer.

Hughie blinked back to her, half-smiling. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused, teasing — but her voice came out quieter than usual. “Yeah? What about me?”

And then she was right in front of him, close enough he could see the water dripping down her neck, close enough he could smell her sunscreen and shampoo.

He didn’t think. He didn’t plan it. He just said the truth, the kind he never had the guts to say before.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Her breath caught.

And then she kissed him.

Hard. Desperate. Like she’d been waiting for the moment and didn’t want to waste a second of it. Her hands brought to the ends of his hair, holding him still as her mouth crashed into his.

Hughie froze, then kissed her back just as hungrily — like he’d been holding his breath all summer and finally let go. His arms wound around her waist beneath the surface, water curling around them like a secret.

Neither of them said a word.

But the kiss said everything.