Chapter Seven

"Do you think Sandra's going to be pissed at me today?" I ask, breathing heavily as Noah and I jog up the hill. The morning air is fresh and crisp—almost annoyingly cheerful for how messy things feel inside my head. Noah had woken me early for a run, claiming it would clear our minds. Jury's still out.

We reach the top of the hill and stop to catch our breath. "No. Why would she be? Because of the kiss last night?" he asks casually, hands on his hips. "It was a dare, and she said it was fine."

I glance at him sideways. "You know what girls are like. Sometimes we say we're cool with something, but deep down we're really not. Maybe she said it was okay so she wouldn't look jealous in front of the others. Like, what choice did she really have?"

He nods, but doesn't say anything.

We start jogging down the hill again when he suddenly adds, "Well, I know if one of the guys asked if they could kiss you for a dare, I'd say no."

I stop mid-step and look at him, eyebrows raised. "Why?"

He smirks. "I think you know why."

And just like that, he leaves me in a swirl of confusion and fluttering nerves.

Back at the cabin, Noah heads straight for the shower while I start breakfast. Music plays softly in the background, and I try to focus on the sizzling bacon instead of replaying last night in my head.

Sandra comes downstairs, hair a full disaster and eyes squinting. "You hungover?" I ask.

She nods like it hurts. "Severely."

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

"You mean you and Noah kissing?" she replies, her voice flat. I freeze. She waves her hand dismissively. "It's okay, Sierra. I told you it was fine. It was just a game. Yeah, it wasn't the highlight of my night, but I trust you."

Great. Now I feel even worse. Why couldn't she have just yelled at me?

"How was it?" she asks suddenly, snapping me out of my spiral.

I turn to the stove, letting my hair fall between us like a curtain. "I mean... it wasn't bad," I mumble, flipping sausages and praying she doesn't read too much into my blushing cheeks. "He's a good kisser, I'll admit. But it was weird, you know?"

"Weird?"

"Yeah, because we're best friends. And because everyone was watching."

"But it looked like you both enjoyed it," she says bluntly.

I swallow hard, heat creeping up my neck as memories flash—his hands on my waist, his lips pressing harder, deeper, like we weren't surrounded at all.

"How would you know?" I ask, trying to deflect.

"Because you were grinding on him," she says, nonchalant.

I gape at her. "I was just sitting on his lap!"

"I saw movement," she insists. "Also, the timer went off, and neither of you pulled away. That wasn't a dare kiss. That was something else."

I sigh heavily. "Okay, fine. It was a good kiss. But you know how I feel about Noah. We're friends. Nothing more." The words taste like lies.

Just then, Noah brushes past me. "Morning, Sandra," he grunts.

Shit. Did he hear that?

Sandra starts chatting with him while I finish plating breakfast. "How are you feeling after last night?"

"Good," he says, grabbing some orange juice. "Sierra and I went for a run earlier. Cleared my head."

Sandra nods. "You ready for tonight?"

He shrugs, cool and detached. "Nonchalant. I don't really care what happens." He looks at me for a beat too long. My stomach flips. What does that mean?

"Are you going to get with any girls?" Harry pipes in, bouncing into the kitchen like a human energy drink. "You have to, man! You're the best wingman!"

"We'll see where the night takes me," Noah replies smoothly, eyes flicking to mine again as he grabs his plate.

What is he doing?

Later, we all head down to the lake. The sun is blazing, and the cold water feels amazing against my skin. After a while, I swim to shore. "I'm going on the kayaks."

"I was thinking the same," Luke says, climbing out beside me. I sigh. This should be interesting.

Sandra asks Noah if he wants to share a kayak, and he hesitates before nodding. I spot his eyes on me again.

"Thanks, guys. Love you all," Harry calls out sarcastically. "Making me ride solo."

"Three can fit," Luke offers. "You can join Noah and Sandra."

"No, I—" Sandra starts, but Harry's already climbing in.

Luke and I paddle away from the others, silence sitting between us for a moment too long. Then he sets down his oar and turns to me.

"Did you talk to Sandra about last night?"

"Why did you do that?" I ask, frowning.

"You didn't have to kiss him. You could've said no. But you didn't. And I saw the way you looked at him."

"I thought you said you still liked me," I say quietly.

"I do. I still love you. But I know you don't feel the same. So the best thing I can do now is let you be happy—with him."

I blink, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "I can't be happy with him. It's complicated. Sandra likes him too. And now it's just... awkward."

Luke leans back, gazing at the water. "We'll have to see how it plays out. I'm going to hook up with like, twenty bitches tonight. So you do you." He grins.

I laugh. "Call them girls, not 'bitches,' and you might have a shot."

He chuckles. "Are you going to stay hung up on Noah or try to have some fun?"

I shake my head. "I'm not planning on getting with anyone. I just want to enjoy the night with my friends."

"What happened to the Sierra who was always on the prowl?"

I gasp. "You make it sound like I was a predator!"

We both burst out laughing, earning weird looks from the others. Just moments ago we were arguing, but now it's like old times.

And honestly, it's nice—this moment with Luke. Before things got messy, we really did have fun together. Our humor matched, our energy clicked. We could sit around and laugh for hours. Maybe it's not about rekindling anything romantic. Maybe it's about finding our way back to being good again.

Because for all his flaws, Luke's a good guy. And for the first time in a long time, it feels okay to admit that.