Chapter 88

Chapter 88
Mara POV

“If you fall, I’m not catching you.”

I didn’t even look up when I said it. Just kept hammering the nail into the fence post like it had personally offended me.

Above me, Eli made a dramatic scoffing sound.

“You literally caught me yesterday.”

“That was a mistake,” I replied. “I’ve learned from it.”

“You saved my life.”

“You tripped over your own foot.”

“That could’ve been fatal.”

I paused just long enough to glance up at him. “It wasn’t.”

“Wow,” he muttered. “No appreciation.”

“You’re still alive. That’s your appreciation.”

He shifted his weight on the fence beam, wobbling slightly.

I pointed the hammer at him. “Don’t—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’ve got balance.”

“You do not have—”

The beam creaked.

Eli froze.

I stared at him.

“…don’t move,” I said slowly.

“I wasn’t going to—”

The wood shifted again.

And then—

“Okay, I’m moving.”

“Don’t you—”

He slipped.

I dropped the hammer without thinking and lunged forward, grabbing his shirt just before he went face-first into the dirt.

We both stumbled back a step, him crashing into me, my grip tightening automatically to keep us both upright.

For a second, everything went still.

Then I shoved him away.

“I said I wasn’t catching you!”

“You did!” he shot back, slightly out of breath. “Again!”

“That was reflex!”

“Good reflex!”

“Bad decision!”

He grinned. “You care.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“You just risked your life for me.”

“I risked my day. There’s a difference.”

He laughed.

I tried very hard not to smile.

Tried.

Failed a little.

“Maybe I should fall more often,” he said.

“Try it and I’ll let you hit the ground next time.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.”

I picked my hammer back up. “Test me.”

He leaned slightly over the beam again.

I didn’t even look at him this time. “Eli.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t.”

He sighed dramatically but climbed down anyway.

“Ruining my fun,” he muttered.

“Keeping you alive,” I corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Not even close.”

Footsteps approached behind us.

Heavy. Slower than usual.

Bren.

I felt Eli notice him too because he straightened slightly, the easy joking tone fading just a little.

Bren stopped a few feet away, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.

“Need help?” he asked.

I glanced at him.

He didn’t look at either of us directly. Just at the fence. Like it was safer.

“We’re good,” I said automatically.

Eli shot me a quick look.

I ignored it.

Bren nodded once. “Right. Yeah. Just… thought I’d ask.”

He turned like he was about to leave.

Something in my chest twisted.

“Wait,” I said.

He paused.

I sighed, already annoyed at myself. “You can take the other side.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded again, a little too fast this time. “Okay.”

Eli leaned closer to me as Bren walked around. “That was nice.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Don’t.”

He held up his hands. “Noted.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes.

Well—mostly silence.

Eli kept humming something off-key.

“Stop that,” I muttered.

“It’s a good song.”

“It’s not even a song. It’s noise.”

“It’s music.”

“It’s suffering.”

Bren huffed quietly on the other side of the fence.

I glanced over.

It wasn’t a full laugh.

But it was close.

That… surprised me.

Eli noticed too. “See? He agrees with me.”

“I did not,” Bren said quickly.

“You laughed.”

“I breathed differently.”

“That’s a laugh.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was.”

I cut in. “If both of you don’t shut up—”

“We’re shutting up,” Eli said immediately.

Bren nodded. “Shutting up.”

Silence lasted exactly five seconds.

Then—

“Mara?” Eli said.

“What?”

“If I fall again—”

“I will let you hit the ground.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I turned to face him fully. “Do you want to test that theory?”

He opened his mouth—

And immediately lost his footing.

Again.

“Eli—!”

This time, he didn’t even try to recover.

He just went down.

And because I am apparently incapable of learning—

I grabbed him.

Hard.

We both went down.

Straight into the dirt.

For a second, I couldn’t even process what happened.

Then I realized—

He was on top of me.

Too close.

Way too close.

Our faces were inches apart.

“Hi,” he said.

“Get off me.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

“I’m injured.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I fell.”

“You always fall.”

“Because you keep catching me.”

“I’m about to stop.”

He shifted slightly—

And that’s when it happened.

It wasn’t intentional.

Not even close.

Just movement. Bad timing. No coordination.

His mouth brushed mine.

Barely a second.

But enough.

Everything froze.

My brain stopped.

His did too, judging by the way he went completely still.

“…did that just—” he started.

“Don’t,” I snapped immediately.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t aiming—”

“I know!”

Bren made a choking sound from somewhere above us.

We both looked up.

He had turned completely around, back facing us like that somehow made things better.

“I didn’t see anything,” he said loudly. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened,” I repeated.

“Nothing happened,” Eli echoed.

We were still on the ground.

Still too close.

Still not moving.

“Get up,” I said.

“You’re holding my shirt.”

I let go immediately like it burned.

He scrambled up, offering a hand.

I ignored it and stood on my own.

We both brushed dirt off like that was the most important thing in the world.

Silence.

Thick.

Awkward.

Eli cleared his throat. “So… fence.”

“Fence,” I agreed.

Bren turned back slowly, eyes carefully not looking at either of us directly.

“Still broken,” he said.

“Very observant,” I muttered.

Eli picked up the hammer. “I’ll fix it.”

“You’re not touching that again.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You just fell twice.”

“Unrelated.”

“Completely related.”

Bren spoke up quietly. “I can… finish this side.”

I glanced at him.

He looked nervous again.

Like he expected to be told no.

“Yeah,” I said after a second. “Go ahead.”

He nodded, a little relieved.

We went back to work.

Slower now.

Quieter.

Eli didn’t hum.

I didn’t threaten him.

Bren worked steadily, not trying too hard, not pulling away either.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it wasn’t tense anymore.

After a while, Eli muttered, just loud enough for me to hear—

“…still counts.”

I elbowed him.

Hard.

“Shut up.”

He grinned.

And just like that—

Everything felt a little lighter again.