The night stretched wide over the empty road, stars scattered like freckles across the dark. You and Casey sat on the trunk of her truck, the warm breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth. The only sounds were the distant hum of cicadas and the occasional rustle of leaves.

"You ever think about not goin’ back?" Casey asked, her voice low, casual—like she wasn’t holding her breath for the answer.

You turned to her, the truck’s taillights painting her in a soft red glow. "To England?"

She nodded, eyes still on the sky, fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on her jeans. "Yeah. What if you just… stayed?"

Something about the way she said it made your heart skip. Not just curiosity—something else. Something that made your throat dry.

"Would you want me to?" you asked, quieter this time.

Casey finally looked at you then, and damn, if her gaze didn’t hit like a slow southern sunrise—warm, steady, a little dangerous. "Wouldn’t be askin’ if I didn’t."

You felt it then, the weight of the air between you, heavy with something unspoken. Her hand brushed yours, barely there, but enough to send a shiver up your spine.

"You supposed to be makin’ a move right now?" you teased, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped.

She smirked, leaning just a little closer. "Guess that depends… you gonna let me?"