Two months had passed since Benjamin had first started coming around for family game nights. What began as casual hangouts on Ryan's old couch had somehow morphed into a regular occurrence at their parents house. He slipped seamlessly into the rhythm of their evenings, bringing his competitive streak and easy laughter with him.

Even Eileen, who had perfected the art of keeping others at arm's length, had to admit the nights were brighter for it. Somehow, Benjamin had a way of making everything feel lighter, like he could hold the weight of the room and carry it without breaking a sweat.

It wasn't just the group gatherings, though. True to his word, Benjamin ensured Eileen was never alone. She couldn't deny it. She enjoyed his deliberate planning. One day, he'd casually asked if she wanted to grab coffee after Ryan bailed on them for some last-minute errand, and before she'd fully processed the offer, she'd said yes.

After that, it became a thing. Coffee one week turned into lunch the next. They strolled through parks, browsed flea markets, and even found themselves laughing their way through a disastrous attempt at bowling. It wasn't anything explicitly romantic—at least, that's what Eileen kept telling herself. But there was an ease between them that she couldn't ignore, a gravitational pull that drew her closer even when she tried to resist.

Benjamin was attractive. Far more attractive than she had ever wanted to admit.

Now, it was the tail end of a warm Saturday afternoon, and they'd ended up at the lake a few miles from Eileen's house. The summer air hummed with cicadas, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the grass in golden patches. Benjamin was sprawled out on a blanket, leaning back on his elbows as he watched the water ripple lazily in the breeze.

"You know," he said, tipping his head toward her, "you're getting dangerously good at picking spots. First the coffee shop with the killer croissants, now this. You setting the bar for all future outings, sunshine?"

Eileen smirked, sitting cross-legged beside him. "I don't hear you complaining."

"Not complaining. Just saying." He grinned, the sunlight catching on the gold flecks in his eyes. "You've got a talent, Eileen."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. Moments like these, when the air was light and unburdened, made her feel like maybe she was capable of something softer—of being someone softer. It wasn't a feeling she trusted, but it was one she couldn't entirely ignore.

Benjamin had a way of dismantling her defenses without even trying. She hated it, really, the way her carefully constructed walls seemed to crumble around him. Falling facades. That's what it was. And yet, she didn't know whether she wanted to rebuild them or let them collapse entirely.

There had been a change in her. Something that had come to life since they'd started hanging out. Maybe even since his declaration of friendship the night of the party.

For the first time in her life, she felt...settled. At peace. Like she didn't have to fight for anyone's attention, or even desire it.

Was this what it felt like to not be in limerence? To not depend on a single person's appearance to affect her own?

What a wonderful world.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the lake filling the space between them. Eileen watched a pair of ducks glide across the water, their movements unhurried and peaceful. But her thoughts weren't on the ducks.

Her thoughts were on Benjamin.

On the way his freckles seemed to darken in the summer sun, scattering like constellations across his cheeks. On the gap between his front teeth that peeked out whenever he laughed, unselfconscious and full of life. On the way his messy hair always seemed one gust of wind away from total rebellion.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her—his attention was fixed on the water, his profile calm and steady—but something about the moment felt charged anyway. There was a weight to the silence, a heaviness she couldn't quite place.

It hit her then, like the sharp intake of breath before diving underwater.

She'd fallen for him.

Not gradually, like stepping into a pool one careful inch at a time. No, this felt like a sudden, heart-racing plunge into the deep end. All the late-night conversations, the shared jokes, the stolen glances—they had built to this, hadn't they? Slowly but surely, he'd worked his way past her defenses, and now she was here, teetering on the edge of something she couldn't undo.

The realization sent her heart skittering in her chest. She wasn't sure what to do with it, this unspoken truth sitting between them like a weight. Part of her wanted to keep it buried, to preserve the easy rhythm they'd fallen into. But another part—the louder, braver part—was tired of second-guessing.

Benjamin shifted beside her, drawing her attention. "You're awfully quiet over there," he said, his tone light but laced with curiosity. "What's on your mind?"

Eileen hesitated, her fingers plucking at a loose thread on the edge of the blanket. She could feel the words bubbling up, uncontainable, and before she could stop herself, they tumbled out.

"Do you want to date? For real this time?"

Benjamin froze, his soda can halfway to his lips. Slowly, he turned to look at her, his brows lifting in surprise.

"Wait, what?"

Eileen groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Forget I said that. It just slipped out. I—"

"No, no, hang on," he interrupted, setting the can down and sitting up straighter. There was something unreadable in his expression—part amusement, part something else entirely. "Did you just ask me out?"

She peeked at him from between her fingers, her cheeks blazing. "Maybe."

A slow, crooked grin spread across his face. "For real this time, huh?"

"Yes, for real this time," she said, dropping her hands and meeting his gaze, even though it made her feel like her heart might leap out of her chest. "So? What do you say?"

Benjamin studied her for a moment, his grin softening into something warmer, gentler. "I say... yeah. I'd like that."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she wasn't sure if she'd heard him right. "You would?"

He nodded, leaning back on his hands again, his gaze steady on hers. "Yeah, Eileen. I would."

The weight that had been sitting on her chest lifted, replaced by something lighter, freer. She didn't know what came next, but for the first time in a long time, she was ready to find out.

They stayed by the lake as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the water in hues of orange and gold. Conversation flowed easily after that, the tension from earlier dissolving like mist under the warmth of Benjamin's smile. He teased her, of course—he wouldn't have been Benjamin if he didn't—but there was a softness to it that made her chest ache in the best way.

"So," he said, his voice playful, "does this mean I'm officially your boyfriend? Or do I have to pass some kind of trial first?"

Eileen snorted, tossing a pebble into the water. "Don't push your luck."

He laughed, a rich, full sound that made her stomach flip. "Noted."

The sun was nearly gone by the time they packed up the blanket and headed back to the car. The drive home was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled. Benjamin's hand rested casually on the gear shift, and Eileen found herself glancing at it more than once, wondering what it would feel like to hold.

When they pulled up in front of her house, Benjamin turned to her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now. "Thanks for today. I had a good time."

She smiled, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his tone. "Me too."

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a small, almost sheepish grin, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Goodnight, Eileen."

Her breath hitched, but she managed to find her voice. "Goodnight, Benjamin."

As she watched him drive away, a smile spread across her face, unbidden and unstoppable. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she was exactly where she was meant to be.