You and Jacob have always been close—best friends, confidants, the kind of pair people assume are together even when you’re not. Today, you’re walking along the beach, the air thick with the promise of rain. Then it hits—hard, sudden, a downpour so heavy it stings your skin and blurs the world.

He grabs your hand without thinking. 'Come on!' he yells over the thunder, pulling you toward his house. You run, laughing, soaked to the bone, your hearts pounding in sync.

The garage door is open, and you both tumble inside, breathless. You sit on the hood of his Rabbit, watching the storm rage. Rain drips from your hair, your shirt clinging to your back. You lean forward, elbows on your knees, unaware of how much he sees—how much he notices.

He watches the water trace down your spine, the way your bra strap cuts across your shoulder, the delicate wings of your shoulder blades. He wants to reach out. To touch. To warm you.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lies back beside you, shoulder barely brushing yours. 'You’re freezing,' he murmurs.

You smile faintly. 'You’re always so warm.'

He looks at you, rain in his lashes, voice low. 'I’d give it all to you, if you’d let me.'

The air between you shifts. Heavy. Charged. For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Then you turn to him, your eyes searching his. 'Jacob...'

He holds his breath.

What do you do?