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“You’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great time with someone who hasn’t either shared the womb with me or lived under the same roof.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

Holy shit . She admitted it.

“But don’t get your hopes up, Xander. I told you I didn’t want to hook up with you, and I meant it.”

My chest deflates like a forgotten birthday balloon.

“Rain, look at me.”

She drinks her water before her gaze meets mine.

“We’re just getting to know each other, so I can’t promise everything is going to be smooth and peachy like it’s been the past couple of days. But what I can tell you is that I haven’t felt this good in a very long time.”

She nods, letting me know she’s listening, so I keep going.

“All I ask is that you give me a chance to get to know you. I just want to spend time with you and see where things go.”

I’ll settle for something casual, even though what I really want to tell her is that I want her in my life.

I know it sounds crazy and rushed, but when you know, you know .

“We can definitely spend time together while you’re here. I think you need my company as much as I need yours.”

My heart starts racing at her words. I don’t think I can wait much longer to taste her lips.

“But once you’re back in Raleigh,” she says.

I raise my eyebrows, silently asking her what she means. I need to hear it from her mouth.

“Once you’re gone, we’re over,” she finally says .

I sigh, and my shoulders sag. “Why do we have to put an end to things if they’re good?” I ask, needing to understand.

The most at peace I’ve ever felt has been in Raleigh—and now here.

But something tells me the way I feel in Azalea Creek is not just because of the place.

It’s because of her .

Still, there’s something else she isn’t saying.

I study her. Her posture is relaxed, her face at ease, but when I look at her hands, she’s pushing down the cuticles on her thumbs.

What is she holding back?

“Okay, enough serious talk for today. The last one in the water has to clean up this mess,” she says, bolting for the waterfall, a trail of tiny shorts and her tank top left in her wake.

Fuck. Me.

I know I’m going to lose.

I want to lose.

I want to take my time, enjoying the view—the way her toned, perfect body moves as she dives into the water, wearing only a skimpy red thong and matching bra.

When did she untie her boots?

“Xander!” she shouts, turning back to look at me—and then she runs her tongue across her upper lip.

That’s when my resolve snaps.

I bolt to join her, tossing my shorts and T-shirt onto a rock by the water. I rip off my tennis shoes and socks and throw them toward her van.

Left in just my black boxers, I glance down—and yep, I’m tenting.

I got hard just from looking at her.

If I don’t hold her in my arms right this second, I might explode.

“What’s the holdup? Are you cold?” she shouts, splashing water at me.

I get my act together and dive into the water.

As soon as I move into the stroke, a sharp pain radiates from my shoulder to my collarbone.

But I suck it up and keep swimming.

I need to reach her.

When I finally stand in front of her, she rewards me with a breathtaking smile, and my pain vanishes.

Dr. Gutierrez’s warning about not swimming plays on repeat in my head.

I make a promise not to swim more than I have to.

“Cherry,” I say, wrapping my arms around her.

“Hotshot,” she breathes, locking her legs around my waist and threading her arms around my shoulders.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” she asks softly against my ear.

It takes me a second to realize she’s asking about my shoulder.

I wave off her concern, too focused on being this close to her.

It’s the closest I’ve ever been to heaven.

“More than okay,” I murmur, tilting my head just enough to catch her lips with mine.

I mean for it to be slow, careful.

But Rain has other plans.

She parts her lips, her tongue slipping into my mouth, hot and hungry.

It’s all the invitation I need.

I slide my hand into her hair, fisting the damp strands, and crush her against me.

Our tongues fight for dominance, desperate and greedy.

Rain is wild.

My wild cherry.

I savor every corner of her mouth, every brush of her lips.

She rolls her hips against me, grinding against my painfully hard dick, and a groan rips out of my chest.

I kiss her deeper, harder, like I’m drowning and she’s the only air I’ll ever need.

God, I could lose myself in her.

I feel her hands scraping down my back, tugging at me, pulling me closer, and for a second—just a second—I almost forget where we are.

But I force myself to break the kiss.

I don’t want to have sex.

At least not yet .

Not here.

I press a few soft, desperate pecks to her swollen lips, then gently bite her bottom lip before finally letting her go.

She’s panting, her cheeks flushed, her body trembling in my arms.

“Fuck, you can kiss,” she says, breathing hard, one hand pressed to her chest.

“Aww, did I literally take your breath away?” I tease, leaning down to kiss her again. But she pushes me back with a splash.

I laugh, and she does too, the sound wild and free.

“Who’s the smartass now?” she taunts, raising a brow and splashing me again.

I grab her by her waist and carry her closer to the waterfall.

She pretends to squirm out of my grip, but she’s laughing too hard.

“Oh, baby, I can be whatever you want me to be,” I growl against her ear.

She freezes—just for a second.

Long enough for me to wonder if maybe I said too much.

If maybe, just maybe, I’m not the only one falling.

But then she grabs my face, drags me back to her, and kisses me like she needs me to survive.

And just when I think I could stay in this moment forever, Rain pulls back—her expression serious now, her hands framing my face .

“There’s something I want to tell you, Xander,” she says, her voice shaking just enough to make my heart stop.

But the words stall on her lips. Her mouth opens, then closes again, whatever she was about to say retreating behind a tight smile.

Instead of speaking, she leans back in and kisses me.

And just like that, the moment slips away—unspoken but not unnoticed.

We stay there, kissing under the cold spray of the waterfall, until our lips are raw and our fingertips are pruned.

For the first time in a long, long time, I send a prayer up to God:

Let this time in Azalea Creek pass slowly. Let Rain fall in love with me so that when it’s time to leave, she won’t be able to let me go.

Because I already know—I’m addicted.