Water flows over my skin, its coolness a stark contrast to the lingering heat from the sun. I sigh, letting the water wash away the grime and tension. The silence behind me is almost too loud, and I can feel Jason's presence without turning around. He's always there—like a shadow that refuses to be shaken.

I smooth my hair back, wiping the water from my face before finally turning to face him. His gaze is intense, focused entirely on me. I can't pinpoint the emotion in his eyes, but it's there, simmering just beneath the surface.

"What?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. "Do I have something on my face?"

A slow smile spreads across his face, softening his features in a way that makes my heart stutter. "No."

I look away, unable to handle the tenderness in his eyes. Vulnerability isn't my thing, especially not with him. "Then why are you staring at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I have something of yours."

His smile fades, replaced by something more serious. He starts to swim closer, the water rippling around his broad shoulders. There's a predatory grace to his movements, like he's a lion stalking his prey.

Instinctively, I take a step back, keeping a safe distance between us. "What are you doing?"

"Swimming," he says, lifting an eyebrow as if I'm the one being ridiculous.

I point to the far side of the lagoon. "Swim over there."

He chuckles, his grin widening. "But I've already got my destination in mind."

He's getting too close, the water sloshing against my skin as he moves nearer. My eyes flick over his bare chest, my mind betraying me as I remember the way that body felt against mine. The muscles are the same, every line and curve imprinted in my memory.

But I'm not going down that road again.

I hold my ground as he circles me, his hand brushing lightly against my back, sending shivers down my spine. He's always had that effect on me—infuriatingly magnetic, drawing me in even when I know I should resist.

"I know what you're doing," I murmur, eyes locked on his.

"Do you?" He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What am I doing?" His smirk is infuriating.

"You're trying to seduce me," I say bluntly, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

His brows lift in surprise, then amusement. "Is it working?"

"No," I lie, but my body betrays me, a tell-tale flush creeping up my neck.

He swims closer, until there's hardly any space between us. "Liar."

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "I don't lie."

"You just did." His voice is low, almost a purr, and it sends a thrill of something—fear, excitement, I don't know which—through me.

"Prove it," I challenge, though I'm not entirely sure what I'm asking for.

He gives me a wicked grin, then his arms are around me, pulling me against him. My hands automatically go to his shoulders, steadying myself as our bodies collide, chest to chest. The heat of his skin seeps into mine, and I hate the way it makes me feel—alive, alert, and dangerously exposed.

"You cold?" he asks, his voice teasing, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"No?" I blink, confused by the question.

He arches an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Could've fooled me."

It takes a moment for the meaning to sink in, and when it does, I glance down, mortified to see the evidence of my body's reaction to the cool water. Heat floods my cheeks, and I push away from him, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the evidence.

"Fuck off," I mutter, embarrassed and angry—mostly at myself.

Jason throws his head back and laughs, a full, rich sound that echoes around us. The sight of him, so carefree and unbothered, only makes my irritation grow.

"Shut up," I snap, shoving at his shoulder.

He doesn't budge, just pulls me back into his side. "C'mon, Arden." He gestures to the world around us, the beautiful, deadly paradise we're stuck in. "We're stranded on an island. We might as well enjoy it while we can. Who knows how long we'll get out here, just us and the beauty of nature."

For a moment, I'm tempted. There's a part of me—a reckless, foolish part—that wants to forget everything, to just give in to the fantasy. But I know better. I've always known better.

I push away from him again, swimming toward the bank. "I'm tired. I'm going back to sleep."

I can feel his eyes on me as I climb out of the water, but he doesn't say anything. I grab my clothes and pull them on quickly, not bothering to look back at him before heading toward shelter. I need space—physical, emotional, mental space—from Jason and everything he represents.