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He runs his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m contracted to participate. Team obligation. And I want to help raise enough money so we don’t have to relocate the arena if this MacDonald land claim turns out to be legitimate.” His voice is apologetic. “But there’s only one person I want to go on a date with, and she probably can’t afford to outbid the women Noreen and her niece are inviting.”

Jealousy flares in my chest. “The whole town’s already planning who to bid on, aren’t they?”

“Mary-Ellen’s been taking bets,” he admits. “But I’m serious, Neesha. I don’t want to go on a date with anyone else but you. Not when what I really want is sitting right here.”

I think about what we said on the rooftop—about pretending we have all the time in the world. I want to stay right here forever—wrapped in memories of Mom, sharing cupcakes with Lucian, pretending that tomorrow doesn’t exist.

That’s when I decide to do something crazy, something that makes this night ours.

Without thinking, I stand and kick off my shoes. The dock is cool under my bare feet.

“Neesha?” He watches as I peel off my socks, confusion and something else flickering in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Something I haven’t done since Mom died.” I pull my sweater over my head, leaving me in my tank top and skirt. He glances over at me, before looking away, making heat spread across my skin despite the cool air. “Something that used to make me feel alive.”

“It’s October.” I catch him stealing another glance at the way the moonlight catches the thin fabric of my tank top before he forces his gaze back to my face. “You were shivering five minutes ago.”

“I know.” I hold out my hand, thrilled by the way he’s looking at me—like he’s fighting every instinct to pull me back into his arms instead of letting me jump into freezing water. “Come with me? I don’t want to do this alone.”

The way he stares at my outstretched hand, then back at me, I can see the conflict churning behind his eyes. He hesitates briefly before standing, shrugging out of his sweater. In the moonlight, his skin glows silver, the bruises along his side faded, but still there.

We stand at the edge of the dock, the tiny waves lapping the support beam.

“On the count of three,” I say, grabbing his hand. “One…two…three.”

We hit the water together, our hands still intertwined, his grip the only thing tethering me to something real. The water is shockingly cold, but the rush of exhilaration through my veins makes me feel more alive than I have since Mom died.

I break the surface, gasping and laughing, my hair streaming water down my neck and shoulders. Lucian surfaces beside me, running his hand through his wet hair, water droplets clinging to his dark lashes in the moonlight.

In the silvery light, he looks almost otherworldly—all gleaming shoulders and defined lines.

He can touch the bottom of the lake, but I have to tread water to stay afloat. As soon as he notices, he reaches for my waist, pulling me toward him. His arms wrap around me, andsuddenly I’m anchored to something solid and warm in the dark water, his body deliciously close.

I know we can’t stay in this freezing water much longer—my teeth are already starting to chatter and I’ve lost feeling in my fingertips—but I never want this moment to end.

Being held by him like this, skin-to-skin under the stars, feels like I’m finally able to make new memories here without erasing the old ones. Lucian and I can exist in the same space where Mom and I once belonged, creating something beautiful instead of just missing what’s gone. I tip my chin up to the sky and see the stars sprinkling the black canvas above us, endless diamonds in the night, the perfect backdrop to our date.

“This is crazy,” I whisper, my lips close to his ear.

“The best kind of crazy,” he murmurs back, his breath warm against my temple.

“And perfect.”

“It is,” he says, and when I pull my gaze back to his, I realize he hasn’t been looking at the sky. He’s looking at me.

“So perfect.” He takes his hand and brushes his knuckles over my jaw tenderly, like I’m exquisite to him.

Then he brings his mouth close to my ear. “Maybe this is your next chapter.”

“What do you mean?”

“This. Us. Right now.” He pulls away just enough to look at me. Then his hand cups my face. “The beginning of something new. If you want it too?”

His eyes drop to my mouth and I know what he’s asking before he even says the words.

“If you don’t want this too, just use the escape clause and we can go.” The fact that he asks—even now, giving me an out—makes my stomach free-fall.

“Please,” I breathe.