The afternoon sun beats down on me between the leaves, glaring at my layer of skin like it had personally affronted it. I breathe out slowly, trenching further through the underbrush, crashing leaves under my footsteps.

My hand lifts to push a large branch out of the way, and I limp under it, breathing a sigh of relief when the sun is momentarily blocked by the towering trees. The air is cooler here, less oppressive, and I relish the brief respite.

Jason walks a few steps behind me, and I can hear his footfalls, the soft rustle of foliage as he moves. But he's quiet, too quiet, and it makes my nerves prickle. I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of him as he steps gracefully between the trees, his movements fluid despite his bulkier physique. His eyes meet mine instantly, and his lips quirk into that familiar, infuriating smirk.

I snap my gaze away, stepping further inland.

"After the gift you gave me last night, I figure I at least deserve a smile back," he says, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife.

I turn back to him, squinting as I force a fake smile onto my face. "Happy?"

He returns it with one of his signature grins, the kind that makes me want to punch something.

"You never should've gone on that date." His voice is all knowing, as if I don't already regret the choices I've made in the last few days - scratch that. The last twelve years.

"Yeah, lot of good that advice does me now." I mutter back, ignoring his eyes on me as we trek through the trees and brush. I turn, the sound of rushing water reaching my ears. "I can hear something," I say, trying to focus on the sound over the pounding in my ears.

"You can hear voices? That's a sign of psychosis," Jason says, his voice laced with amusement.

"No, I can hear a fucking idiot, though," I retort, rolling my eyes as the sound grows louder. I push through another branch, feeling Jason close behind me, and stop dead in my tracks as I finally see the source of the noise.

"It's a lagoon," Jason murmurs, stepping beside me. "Like in Blue Lagoon."

My eyes sweep over the scene in front of me, taking in the crystal clear water, enticing and inviting with a short waterfall on the other side, the water rippling from the movement. It feels like a mirage, too perfect to be real, but the smell of fresh water in the air tells me otherwise.

Jason walks past me, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head. He flings the material at my feet, a playful smirk on his lips as he glances back at me. "Coming for a dip?"

I narrow my eyes at him as he turns away, the muscles in his back contracting as he dives into the water. I watch him surface, shaking the water from his hair before he turns to look at me, his eyebrow quirking in challenge. "Or are you going to stand there all day and watch me? I didn't take you for a voyeur, Arden."

Says the man who fucked his hand in the shower, knowing I could hear each groan and grunt that left his lips.

I don't say that, turning my back on him even as I feel his gaze burning into me.

"Stop looking," I mutter, my voice more flustered than I intend.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he says, his voice carrying a teasing note that makes my cheeks heat despite myself. You're better than this, Arden.

I glance over my shoulder, watching as he swims further away, his attention turning to the soft waterfall that feeds into the lagoon. I pull my gaze away.

Many men have seen you less then clothed, Arden, grow a spine and strip.

But it's Jason - Strip!

I slip out of my clothes, letting them fall in a heap on the ground before stepping into the cool water. It's a relief, a momentary escape from the relentless heat and the weight of everything else. I dive deep, letting the water close over me, hoping it will drown out the thoughts swirling in my head.

When I surface, Jason is there, running a hand through his wet hair. His eyes lock on mine, and I can see the tension in his posture, the same tension that's been there since we found ourselves stranded together.

Droplets cling to every sharp angle and sinew of his body. The water cascades over his chest, tracing paths down the hard planes of his muscles before disappearing below the surface. His dark hair is slicked back, the wet strands revealing the strong, angular lines of his face. The sun catches on his eyelashes, where tiny droplets hang like jewels, glinting with every subtle shift of his head, much like the emerald green on his eyes.

I'm trying not to stare, really, but it's impossible when he looks like this—like something out of a dream. My gaze betrays me, traveling from the broad span of his shoulders to the taut definition of his abs, then back to his face. His lips twitch.

Jason's eyes catch mine, and his lips curve into a knowing grin—slow at first, then wider, showing perfect, pearly teeth. It's devastating, that grin, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking and is enjoying every second of it.

"Like what you see?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing, his grin deepening as my mouth opens, then closes, unable to form a coherent response.

The heat rushes to my cheeks in an instant, spreading so fast that I know I must look like a tomato. I snap out of it, forcing a glare his way to mask my embarrassment. "Nothing I can't get from any man these days," I shoot back, my voice sharper than I intended.

Jason raises an eyebrow, unperturbed, and leans forward slightly, droplets falling from his chin into the water with soft splashes. "Any man, huh?"

I huff, turning sharply away from him, my back to his ridiculous grin. "Don't push it, Jason."

But even as I move away, I can still feel the weight of his gaze, warm and unrelenting, as if he's daring me to turn around again.

He's silent for a moment before he speaks and I eternally grateful the topic of conversation  is not the way I just eye fucked him like I had any right to.

"This isn't too bad," he murmurs, swimming closer.

I force myself to turn and meet him halfway, my gaze jumping from the rocks to the waterfall to where our clothes lay abandoned. "Could be worse," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, trying to keep the fear out of it. Fear of what? The island, definitely the island and not the naked man across from me.

"Yeah, I mean, we could be stranded on an island that doesn't have a lagoon," he says, and despite everything, a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

I swim past him, focusing on the waterfall, letting the sound of the crashing water fill my ears. "Don't go chasing waterfalls," Jason says softly behind me, and I glance back to find him watching me with that familiar intensity, the kind that makes my heart do things I don't want it to.

I can't deal with that right now. I can't deal with him. I slip under the water, hoping to escape the feelings that are clawing at me, but when I resurface, his eyes are still on me, curiosity flickering in their depths.

"Here's the deal," I say, trying to inject some authority into my voice, trying to regain some control. "You stay over there, and I'll stay right here. No peeking." I make a circle in the air with my finger, signalling for him to turn around.

Jason raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes." I lift my chin, daring him to argue.

"Fine, no peeking. Scouts honour." He says, holding up three fingers.

I send him an incredulous look. "You were not a scout."

"I could've been." He mutters. "How would you know? You hardly paid me attention when we were kids."

I laugh shortly. "Yes I did. And you weren't a scout."

"You noticed me as kids?" He says softly, tilting his head at me.

"How could I not? You made yourself known in every room you walked into." I roll my eyes, turning to stare at the man over my shoulders.

"I didn't think you paid attention." He mutters quietly before saying louder. "I won't look." He makes a big show of turning around, glancing over his shoulder at me with a smirk. "Better?"

"Much," I say, turning away from him and scrubbing at my skin, trying to wash away the few days of grime, the fear, the memories. But no matter how hard I scrub, I can't seem to get rid of the thoughts that cling to me, the doubts that refuse to be silenced.

I really wish I had soap, maybe then I would feel like my normal self. Yeah, sure, Arden, because it's the lack of soap that has your heart-

Nope, no.

I don't let my thoughts wander as I wade deeper into the clear water, sinking up to my shoulders.

• • •

The sun sinks lower on the horizon, casting the island in shades of gold and pink. We'd dried quickly in the hot tropical humidity, our clothes once again on as we trudge through the uneven terrain.

The air smells like salt and earth, but it's not exactly comforting. This island is wild and unknown, every step further inland and along the jungle treating us to nothing but small insects and dead foliage.

"Think we'll find anything out here?" Jason asks, his voice light, but I can tell he's scanning every tree, his head moving towards every rustle of leaves.

We'd been looking for food, people, anything really that might have helped us, but the day was dwindling and all we'd stumbled across was the fresh water lagoon which at least covered two of our problems. Drinking water and bathing.

It was exactly the cleanest or healthiest option, but it was better than nothing.

Jason stops suddenly, and I nearly walk into him. His eyes narrow, scanning something ahead.

"Look," he says, pointing.

At first, I don't see it. Just more trees and overgrown brush. But then I notice the outline of something angular in the distance, barely visible through the foliage. It's not natural—not part of the forest.

"What is that?" I ask, my voice hushed.

"Only one way to find out," Jason replies, already moving toward it.

We push through the thick underbrush until we're standing in front of it—a structure. A shack, to be exact. Decrepit and weathered, but unmistakably man-made.

"It's... a house?" I say, more to myself than to him.

Jason frowns, his eyes darting over the rotting wood and the patchy roof, made unmistakably from logs and sturdier foliage then we'd found for our own shelter. "Not quite. More like someone's attempt at survival."

The place looks like it's been here for years. The wood is dark with age, the roof patched with palm fronds and scraps of what might have once been a tarp. There's a small opening for a door and what looks like a makeshift window, open to the outside. Of course, can't get glass for windows here.

"Whoever built this seemed to be here awhile if they had the time to make it," Jason murmurs, and I know he's thinking the same thing I am.

What happened to them? Were they alone? Why were they here? Where are they now?

"Do you think they made it?" I ask softly, so softly I'm not sure if Jason even hears it. I don't want to know what his answer might be.

Jason doesn't answer right away. He doesn't have to. The silence speaks volumes.

"Should we check it out? See if it's still-" He pauses, eyes jumping over the structure quickly, "- liveable." He finishes.

"We can't keep sleeping under that flimsy shelter we built last night." I say, scanning the decrepit shelter. It's falling apart, roots and other plants growing around it.

He chuckles, a low sound that has my back straitening. "What? You didn't enjoy huddling together under a canopy of sticks and leaves? I got to say, Kitten, I'm quite hurt you didn't enjoy my company as much as I did yours."

I roll my eyes, ignoring the heat that rises to my cheeks at the memory of how close we'd been when id awoken this morning. Too close was the only right answer and that dream, that memory did not help.

Jason doesn't wait for me to reply, stalking closer to the shelter. "C'mon we're losing daylight."

The inside is just as rough as the outside. There's a small pit in the centre that looks like it was meant for a fire. In one corner, a makeshift bed rests on a frame of sticks and woven leaves, with an old, tattered tent spread over it like a sheet.

"It's not much," I say, running my hand over the bedframe, "but it's better than what we've got right now."

Jason crouches near the fire pit, poking at the ashes with a stick. "No signs of recent use. Whoever built this, it's been a while."

He looks up at me, his eyes saying what I'm thinking.

"So, they won't mind if we borrow it for a while?" I say quietly, feeling like a thief standing in the middle of what was so obviously somebody's home for god knows how long.

We start clearing out the space, moving fallen branches and debris to make it liveable. Jason works near the entrance, while I tackle the back corner.

I'm dragging a large branch toward the door when it slips, slicing through my palm.

"Shit!" I yelp, dropping the branch as pain shoots through my hand.

Jason is at my side in an instant, his hands gripping my arms as he scans me for injury. "What happened?"

"I cut myself," I say, holding up my hand. Blood wells up from a long, shallow slice across my palm, from pinkie to wrist.

Jason curses under his breath. His fingers clench around my wrist softly, holding my palm up for closer inspection with a deep frown. He presses near the cut, checking it as I wince, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth. His eyes move to mine, startled and I look back at him. For a moment, neither of us moves. We're both just stuck in whatever hypnotic film just fell over us.

His brows draw in and he drops my hand suddenly. I let it fall to my side, feeling weird with the weighted silence between us, the way he'd just dropped my hand like I'd burned him, taking a step back.

"It's fine, It's not too deep." I mutter, flexing my hand and ignoring the sharp sting of pain. I know I should clean it, cover it but we're stuck on island for gods sake. "I'll just-" I pause, searching for words to say. "Clean it with salt water." I cringe as I say the words. Salt water? Just give yourself an infection while you're at it, Arden. "Or I'll find something." I keep rambling, trying to ignore his inquisitive gaze on me.

Until he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

"What-What are you doing?" I stutter, eyes widening at the bare expanse of his chest on display before my eyes fly to his face when his shirt is fully off.

"You need to cover it." He says, like everything he just did in the last ten seconds make sense. He lifts his shirt to his teeth, tearing at the fabric with his teeth until a long thin strap is presented to me.

I just stare dumbly.

He huffs under his breath, grinning. "I didn't know the sight of my naked chest would get you to shut up quite so effectively."

All thought of his naked chest fly out of my head as I glare at him. "You're a dick, Wilde."

He shrugs, unrepentant and reaches for my hand again.

"To keep out any dirt or anything." He mutters quietly at my silence. 

"It's not that bad," I protest, but he's already wrapping the fabric around my hand with surprisingly gentle precision "You need to be more careful," he mutters, tying the makeshift bandage tightly. "We don't exactly have a first-aid kit lying around."

"I know," I say, my voice softer than I intended and then add on, as if in afterthought. "Thanks."

His hands linger on mine for a moment longer, his eyes searching mine. For what, I don't know.

"Try not to hurt yourself again, okay?" he says, his tone lighter, but there's an edge of concern that makes my chest tighten

I nod.