Chapter 90: The Summer Begins

The first thing Cassian said when we pulled up to my sister’s lake house was, “You are smiling like you did not just spend four hours in a car.”

I glanced at him and shut the door behind me. “I am smiling because we are not in a car anymore.”

He leaned one elbow on the roof and looked at me like he did not believe me for a second. “You are smiling because you know I am about to carry all the bags.”

That got a real laugh out of me.

The lake house sat at the end of a narrow gravel drive, half hidden by trees and sunlight and the kind of quiet that made the city feel very far away. My sister’s place was all wood siding, wide windows, and a dock that stretched out over water so still it looked like glass in the morning light. We had come here for a week to disappear for a little while.

Just heat, water, food, and my sister deciding she was going to feed us whether we asked or not.

Cassian grabbed the duffel bags before I could argue.

I watched him sling one over each shoulder and start up the steps like it was nothing. He looked unfairly good in a plain gray T-shirt and dark shorts, hair already sun-ruffled from the drive, sunglasses pushed up on his head.

I shut the trunk and followed him inside.

The house smelled like pine, sunscreen, and something already cooking in the kitchen. My sister called from somewhere out back, “If either of you brought white wine and forgot to tell me, I will forgive you.”

Cassian called back, “We brought snacks.”

“Better.”

He looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. “See? I am useful.”

“You are useful every five seconds.”

“Only every five seconds?”

I stepped past him into the main room and gave him a look. “Do not make me regret inviting you.”

He leaned in just enough that his voice dropped low. “You invited me for many reasons.”

The heat in his eyes landed hard enough that I had to look away first.

The first day moved quickly after that.

My sister showed up with a tray of iced drinks and a list of things she claimed we still needed from town. Cassian offered to help with everything, which of course made her like him more. She already liked him, she had made that clear the first time she met him. This week was just her becoming more open about it. He laughed at her jokes, carried everything she pointed at, and accepted her teasing with the same calm he used on the ice when a defender tried to get inside his head.

By late afternoon, the barbecue was going.

Smoke curled off the grill at the edge of the yard. My sister had music playing from a speaker on the porch. The lake glittered through the trees a few steps past the lawn, bright and still. Cassian stood by the table in a dark tank top, flipping a piece of corn with tongs while my sister scolded him for nearly dropping it into the coals.

“You are being trusted with vegetables,” she said. “That should matter to you.”

“It does matter,” Cassian said.

“Good.”

“It also makes me feel powerful.”

I snorted and took a drink from my glass.

He looked at me and smiled like he had caught me enjoying this too much.

The evening softened around us after that. Burgers, grilled vegetables, cold drinks, the sound of cicadas somewhere in the trees, and my sister talking enough for all three of us.

He caught my knee under the table once when he stood to bring the food out.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded without missing a beat. “I am fine.”

His eyes held mine for a second too long. “You sure?”

“Cassian.”

He lifted both hands in surrender and turned back to the grill, but the look he gave me before he did said he did not believe me.

Later, after my sister had gone inside and left us on the porch with the last of the food and the lake turning dark beyond the trees, Cassian sat beside me on the steps with one knee bent and one hand around a bottle of beer he had barely touched.

The night was quiet enough to hear the water moving against the dock.

He turned his head towards me and looked like he wanted to say something.

I was starting to hate the waiting.

He nudged my shoulder with his. “You have been quiet all evening.”

“I have not.”

“You have.”

I tilted my head and looked at him. “You are making a habit of tracking my moods.”

“Somebody has to.”

I took a slow breath and looked back at the lake. “It is just a little tight.”

That made him go still beside me.

“Your knee?” he asked.

I nodded.

He did not answer right away. Then he said, low and careful, “You have been saying that all day.”

“It has been hot.”

“That was not the question.”

I turned towards him and found his jaw already tight.

I shrugged one shoulder. “It is nothing serious.”

Cassian’s eyes stayed on mine. “You are limping.”

“I am not limping.”

He gave me a flat look that would have made me laugh if the truth did not sit so close under it. “Torin.”

I looked away first. That annoyed him, I could tell.

He set the beer down on the step and turned more fully towards me. “How long has it been bothering you?”

I hesitated.

That was enough.

Cassian’s mouth tightened. “That long.”

I did not answer.

He leaned back on one hand and looked out toward the lake for a second like he was trying to keep himself calm. Then he looked back at me and said, “You told me this would be a quiet week.”

“It is quiet.”

“You are limping.”

“I said it is not serious.”

“That is not the same thing.”

I could feel the pressure of the conversation building, not in a bad way exactly. I had not planned on hiding the knee from him, I had just wanted one week where I did not have to think about every step.

Cassian was not letting me have that.

He shifted closer on the step until his knee touched mine. “You should have told me.”

I gave him a look. “You would have looked at me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you were about to carry me back inside and call a doctor.”

He did not deny it.

He took my hand and laced our fingers together, his thumb brushing once over my knuckles.

“Is it really bad?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “No.”

He did not look convinced.

“It is just tight,” I said again.

He kept his voice low. “Tor.”

I met his eyes.

He looked at me for a second with that same steady intensity he always had when he wanted the truth and knew he would get it eventually. “I am not mad,” he said. “I just want to know what is going on.”

I held his gaze for a beat longer than I should have, then exhaled through my nose.

“It hurts a little more than before, that’s all,” I admitted.

His face changed immediately.

“Why didn’t you say that at dinner?”

“Because my sister would have overreacted.”

“And I would not?”

I looked at him. “You are worse.”

His mouth moved, close to a smile and not quite. “I am definitely worse.”

There was heat in that look that had nothing to do with the conversation and everything to do with the fact that we were sitting close enough for our knees to touch and close enough for him to rub his thumb once over my hand and make it hard to think about anything else.

He leaned in a little. “You are still being stubborn.”

I let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “You are still doing that thing where you can tell before I say it.”

“That is because you are bad at lying to me.”

I looked at him for a second, then turned my head toward the water. The lake was almost black now under the evening light, still enough to reflect the trees and the sky in pieces. The air had cooled just enough to make the porch feel good after the heat of the barbecue.

Cassian shifted even closer.

“You are making that face again,” he said.

“What face?”

“The one where you are trying not to worry me.”

I turned back to him. “I am trying not to make it worse.”

His eyes softened. “You are not making it worse.”

“I am not?”

“No.”

He said it so simply that I almost believed him before I had time to argue. Then he reached up and touched the side of my face, thumb brushing once along my jaw.

The touch made the whole porch feel quieter.

“You tell me if it gets worse,” he said.

I looked at him.

He was serious now.

I nodded once. “I will.”

That satisfied him just enough for the tension to loosen.

At least for tonight.

Cassian kept his hand on my face for one more second, then let it fall to my shoulder. His eyes moved over me, lingering just a little too long in that way that still made my pulse change.

“You are not allowed to hide from me out here,” he said quietly.

I looked at him. “I am not hiding.”

He raised a brow.

I gave him a look back. “Fine.”

That got a real smile out of him.

The night pressed in softer around us after that. A screen door opened behind us. My sister called from inside that there was pie if we wanted it. Cassian looked towards the kitchen and then back at me like he was deciding whether to keep sitting here or go eat something and pretend not to be worried.

I stood first.

The knee complained once, quietly, and I ignored it just long enough to make it up the step without showing too much.

Cassian saw it anyway.

He stood too, moving close enough that his hand brushed my back as we went inside.

Summer had started.

And I was limping again.