After dinner, Emma joined the Wolves near the boathouse. She’d managed to eat a cup of tomato-basil soup and a little bread before the knot in her stomach protested. Now she waited for Max to appear, dread and anticipation coiling through her in equal measure.

This was the last time she’d see him, at least until she visited Ruby—and Emma suspected it might be a while before she felt strong enough to book that airplane ticket. Before running into Max again, she’d need to find her cheerfully dispassionate face. That expression had gone missing recently.

Despite everything, she still wanted to see him. She hoped that knowing it was the last time would help her believe whatever they had, however brief, was over.

Because, even though her bags were packed for the early shuttle to the airport, nothing felt done. Not yet.

“Do you have any idea what he has planned?” Caroline asked.

“You remember I wasn’t an actual Scout, right? I don’t know what any of the badges are.”

“That’s right. I keep forgetting.”

So had Emma. From the first challenge, she’d barely spared a thought for the luxurious spa week she’d been denied. A private mud bath sounded pretty dull compared to helping her team to victory.

Besides, no massage would ever live up to the one Max gave her.

Like the thought summoned him, he stood before her. Before everyone, really, but his eyes went straight to her. Heat built between them, the connection feeling almost inevitable. Emma wondered how long it would take to look at each other without that intense awareness. Maybe in a year or two, when she visited their friends to find Max had a girlfriend, maybe a fiancée…

Her small dinner felt like lead at the thought of Max with another woman. Summer flings were supposed to end with the summer, right? She would get over it.

“One last challenge,” Max announced. “One last chance for the Bears to win Scout wars.”

The women booed.

“And one more chance for the Wolves to humiliate us.”

Cheers, of course.

“The final challenge of Scout wars is inspired by the Girl Scout badge Night Owl.”

There were a lot of blank looks at the announcement, and even more intrigued ones.

“This badge is about how things change when the sun goes down. Places you know so well by daylight can become unfamiliar when night falls.”

Max nodded to a Camp Firefly Falls staff member standing behind the groups. The boathouse lights clicked off. A second later, the porch lights on every cabin went dark. The tennis court lights, the small bulbs that marked the paths, the bright glow of the lodge, they all disappeared until the campers stood in complete darkness beneath a new moon. Even the stars had vanished, covered by a thick veil of clouds.

A quiet rumble of excitement passed through the teams.

Emma could just pick out Max’s silhouette but none of the details of his face. His voice reached her, warm and solid.

“The first day, there was a cookie challenge. This is the nighttime version of that. Stand in a single line with your group. No one is allowed to speak for the next ten minutes. If you do, your team forfeits this battle.”

A flashlight clicked on, enough to illuminate one camp counselor. She handed all the Scouts small notebooks and pens, then turned the light off.

Max walked toward the Wolves. “Hold out your hands, palms up.”

Emma could barely make out Max as he made his way down the line. When he reached her, she held her breath, anticipating a small brush of his fingers, a quiet word. Instead, he dropped an object in her hand and continued to the next person.

“Everyone is now holding a piece of cookie in your hand. Your job is to identify what kind it is without looking—or talking, remember.”

Most people immediately popped the small bite into their mouth, but Emma took a second to feel it. Flat, with no obvious chips or nuts. It was smooth, with no frosting or jelly center. Only when Max called time did she taste it. Simple, but rich and buttery. Shortbread.

The light clicked back on. “Write down the name of the cookie in your notebooks.”

The scratch of pens filled the night, but no one spoke.

The process was repeated four more times. The peanut butter was easy to guess, and she was pretty confident of the sugar cookie, but there was a spicy one she wasn’t sure of, and the last one she could only identify as chewy.

After they handed their notebooks to the counselor for grading, Max again moved down the line. This time, he took a little longer with each person. Emma squinted into the dark, trying to see what he was doing.

When he reached her, he took her hand without a word, though they were now allowed to talk. He threaded a cord around her wrist.

Emma needed to break the silence. “I don’t remember hearing about a light bondage badge.”

God, she wished she could see him, to know if he was smiling or scowling or hurting like she was.

His voice gave nothing away when he responded. “They don’t like to publicize that one.” He tugged the cord, connecting her to the person next to her, then continued to the other side.

When he was finished, there were two lines—one formed of Wolves, the other Bears. “Next challenge,” Max announced. “Follow your counselor to the hiking trail. Work together to reach the light that’s been set up about a quarter mile down the trail, then return to the finish line at the docks. First team back wins.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” The nervous voice came from the Bears’ side. “Isn’t walking in the woods at night pretty high on the Scouts’ don’t list?”

“Creative license. If we lose a group of twelve adults tied together with no more than twenty minutes head start, pretty sure we’ll all have to forfeit our Scout badges. We made sure to choose areas without poison oak.”

She didn’t need to see him to know that was for her benefit.

“Ready…set…”

On go, everyone lurched forward. Emma found herself tugged in multiple directions, but eventually her team figured out how to work together without the benefit of sight. They began walking in something approximating a steady line. The effort required to move in sync with the others, to be a team, was a welcome distraction.

The women worked fast and with little disagreement, and they beat the guys to the dock by a full minute.

“The Wolves are the clear winners.” Max held up the notebooks, the results of the taste test now compiled. “But the guys were better at identifying snickerdoodles and oatmeal raisin. One to one. We have one more contest. Since we’re still tied, it will decide the winner of the entire week. And that challenge…will…be…announced in ninety minutes.”

Loud groans and protestations greeted the announcement.

She could almost hear him shrug. “Remember, this badge is about more than winning. It’s about experiencing the night. Counselors will guide you to several activities to help you explore in the dark. The climbing wall, giant swings, zip lines, and night swimming are all options. No archery, if you don’t mind.”

Flashlights clicked on, revealing several counselors. Each called out where they were headed, and the Scouts followed them to whichever nighttime activity they preferred.

Emma picked the nearest counselor without paying much attention to their destination, and found herself standing by the giant swings in the adventure park with five other campers.

When it was her turn, she felt her way along the large metal frame of the swings until she encountered the metal chains. She slid her hands down to the flexible seat, then sat carefully and let the counselor strap her in. One push, and she moved a few feet into the air. Another, and she had space to pump her legs. After moving back and forth a couple of times, relearning a movement she hadn’t practiced since she was a child, her muscle memory kicked in. She leaned back, pulling on the cables to maneuver herself higher—and then she was flying.

It was exhilarating, and it was terrifying. Soaring through the night, unable to use an object as a focal point, she lost track of where she was. She could have been ten feet above the ground, or a hundred. All she knew for certain was the breeze on her face as she moved through the air. She thought, if she could only keep moving, eventually she’d be able to pass through the clouds, swinging higher and higher until she was close enough to touch the stars.

It was how she’d achieved everything in her life. If there was a star to be grabbed, she didn’t stop moving until she reached it. Maybe she would spend her life proving she was more than she was raised to be, but that didn’t bother her. It motivated her. Every time she succeeded, she proved who she really was.

She was a woman who knew how to fly.

“Time’s up,” the counselor called as she passed, and she grumbled at the intrusion of reality.

Emma stopped pumping her legs and allowed gravity to do the rest. After several back-and-forths, each one slowing her a bit more, the counselor helped her stop with a strong hand on her back.

Stronger than it had been before. Larger and warmer too.

“I was hoping we could talk.” His voice rumbled near her ear.

Emma reached for the constraints to free herself, but Max beat her to it. His movements were sure and quick, and the safety straps soon dangled from the seat.

“What about?” She stood and immediately grabbed the chain to stay upright.

Max wrapped an arm around her waist. “Careful. Your equilibrium might be off.”

Emma had felt off balance for days. “I can stand.”

He stepped back slowly, but she could sense his arms hovering next to her, ready to catch her if she fell.

“Come with me.” It wasn’t a question, but she heard uncertainty in the words. He didn’t expect her to agree.

Emma hesitated. She’d spent the day coming to terms with reality. They lived on separate coasts. Even if they didn’t, his words that morning showed they weren’t built to last. She refused to spend another minute proving she wasn’t shallow, not when she’d shown him who she truly was. If he didn’t see it, that was his problem.

But as always, curiosity won. If she didn’t hear him out now, she’d spend an entire plane ride wondering what he would have said.

“Where?”

Max wrapped his fingers around hers. “To guide you,” he explained, though a guide wouldn’t keep such a tight grip.

Even when she couldn’t see their path, it was easy to follow him. She already knew his pace, the length of his stride, and he knew hers. Without words, they matched each other.

She tried to track their location as they moved away from the adventure park, but it wasn’t long before she was completely turned around. “How can you see where we’re going?”

“Worked here for years, remember? I’ve been at this camp on many moonless nights.”

They only walked for a couple of minutes. When he drew to a stop, she was certain they hadn’t left the main camp. She could still hear the laughter and conversation of the other campers—close enough to be audible, but far enough for the sounds to be muted and indistinct. Privacy of a sort, even if they weren’t truly alone.

“Where are we?”

“Take off your shoes.”

Immediately, she knew. If a light shone on them now, she’d see the giant slide, the nearby copse of trees. Beneath her feet she’d find grass, perfect for a midnight dance.

Emma bent to remove her sneakers. Each movement was slow, careful, as she used the time to sort the swirling questions in her mind. There was a reason he’d chosen this spot in particular to say goodbye, but she couldn’t guess what it was.

The grass was cool on her bare feet. “Now what?” There was a slight hitch to her voice.

Something was pressed into her hands, and she curled her fingers around the object. It was plastic and cylindrical, and she ran her fingers across the surface and down the stem to a flat base.

“Take a sip.”

She knew what it was before the bubbles teased her nose. A flute of champagne.

Emma took a healthy swallow. “What are you doing, Max?” What she wanted to ask was Why are you doing this to me? She’d been trying to put thoughts of Max in a sealed box, but no box was big enough.

“I thought, this time, you might ask me to dance.”

She drank again, more deeply. “Why would I do that?”

“That’s a fair question. You’re smart, so you probably don’t dance with a lot of idiots. I’m hoping you’ll make an exception.”

Emma set down the empty glass with unsteady hands. “What is this idiot offering me, exactly?”

His hand settled on her hip. “An apology, to start with.”

She pulled away. “I don’t want to rehash this morning. You meant what you said.”

“I really didn’t, I promise, but that’s a whole other way I screwed up. I’m apologizing for something else.”

“What?”

“If I could hit the reset button, if I had a second chance to stand with you in this spot, I’d take back what I said. You’re not shallow or self-absorbed. I was wrong to ever think it, let alone say it.”

“Well, yeah.” Keep it light. She had to keep it light. If she believed him, she would need to stop being angry at him—and she’d miss him even more when she left. Emma had a feeling she’d miss Max for a very long time.

“Emma, you weren’t the shallow one. I was. I made all kinds of assumptions based on gossip and stereotypes.”

She narrowed her eyes, not that he could see. “Who’s talking about me?”

“You know there are stories about you, about the men you’ve dated. Josh doesn’t gossip, but he still warned me off you. It sounded like you viewed guys as playthings.”

“And you wanted more.”

“Yes. I wanted to mean something to someone.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It is when you want it for the wrong reasons. I wanted to cross an imaginary line, the one that made me feel like I was being left behind while my friends became adults.”

Emma moved her hand to touch him, pulling it back at the last second. If they touched, she wasn’t sure they would keep talking, and there were words that needed to be said. “Do you still think about that imaginary line? About being with someone?”

“I only think about being with you. That’s it.”

“But…” She had a list of reasons that wasn’t possible, but Max put a finger to her lips, not wanting to hear them.

He placed one hand on her shoulder and slid it down her arm until he found her hand. The other rested on her hip. He spun them, a slow half circle, the first steps of a dance.

They began with space between their bodies, but with each step it vanished, as if instinct drew them closer.

His arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. “I know you want to tell me why we’re still doomed. I didn’t make a great case for myself this morning. Just know that everything I said was out of fear. Fear of not being good enough for you, of not living up to the man I thought you needed. I put that bullshit on you, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Keep talking,” she whispered into his shoulder.

They were close enough that she felt his chuckle rumble against her chest. “The last time we were here, I said you could never break my heart. I was wrong.”

Another crack appeared in her own heart.

“I was wrong too,” she admitted. “I was playing with you a little. I assumed you’d react like most guys did. I don’t have a great track record of taking men seriously.” She exhaled. “I thought I wasn’t listening when my mom said men only cared about looks, but some of that poison must have sunk in. I never gave anyone a chance.”

Max drew her even closer. It felt like the warmest, safest place in the world.

“This makes me a terrible person, but I’m glad.” He squeezed her hand. “If you’d given them a chance, you might be dating one of them. You wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, I still would have come to Camp Firefly Falls.”

“No. Here. With me.” Max brushed his lips across her forehead and kissed her temple. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Emma winced, and he must have felt it. He stopped moving and released her hand, though he kept his other arm locked around her waist.

He ran his finger down her nose, then outlined the curve of her cheekbones before tracing her lips. He ended with a soft bop on her chin. “I can barely see you right now. Don’t freak out on me.”

“But…”

“But I said you’re beautiful. You are. You’re smart and funny and playful. You draw people into your orbit because of your smile, not your bone structure. You’re stubborn—so fucking stubborn—and determined, and you created something so far beyond what you were raised to do that it staggers me. I’ve barely left my hometown, but you looked at how you were raised and decided to rewrite all the rules. You amaze me. I don’t care if you wear makeup or not. I don’t care what magazines you appear in. I don’t care if you have your old nose or a new one.”

She gave him a light slap on the back. “Hey.”

“It’s true. Get whatever nose you want. I’ll like all of them. Want to become nocturnal, so we spend our lives like this, in the dark? I’ll do it, because you are the only light I need.”

It was a good thing she was wearing waterproof mascara. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“It’s not clear?”

“Spell it out for me.”

He tightened his grip on her waist. “I don’t want to let you go. Not now. Not for a long time.” He hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough. “Maybe not ever.”

The words were loaded, full of questions she didn’t know how to answer.

The answer should have been clear. They were a summer fling. It was time to go their separate ways, and she would never need to worry about trusting a guy. Never need to worry that he might break her heart.

Maybe she would spend her life proving she was more than she was raised to be. Only thirty minutes ago she’d had that thought, as she raced toward the stars and imagined grabbing one.

There were so many ways to fly.

The answer was clear, and logical, and it was the wrong one—so Emma gave Max the right answer. “I don’t want to let go either.”

The words were barely out before his lips found hers. Her entire body sighed with relief, because she knew this wasn’t their last kiss. It was one of many, with countless others to follow. Tomorrow wouldn’t be the end. They didn’t need to say goodbye.

When he placed his hand on her cheek, he found it wet with tears. “This wasn’t the response I was going for.”

“It’s happy crying. I promise.”

“I wish I could—” He stopped abruptly.

“It’s okay. I wish I could see you too.”

Max exhaled. “That’s good. Because it’s actually normal and healthy to find the person you’re dating physically attractive. Just so you know.”

“You’re saying you still want to objectify me?”

“Maybe a little.” There was a smile in his voice. It matched the one in hers.

“If you insist, but you’ll need to take off your shirt.”

“I have to take off my shirt whenever I think you’re beautiful?”

That wasn’t exactly what she meant, but it sounded like an excellent idea. “Objectification goes both ways, big guy. Let’s get those abs out.”

He drew back enough to remove his shirt, then placed her hand on his stomach. “These old things?”

Emma traced the ridges of his stomach muscles, drawing a mental image of the tanned skin with the thin line of hair pointing downward. “I think you’re beautiful too, you know. All of you.”

Max groaned as her fingers dipped inside his waistband. “Thank God. I’d hate to be alone in this.”

The front of his shorts tented, and her desire flared. Heat pooled between her legs, her body eager to join with his again.

Emma cupped his cheek. It was covered in stubble, since he hadn’t shaved this morning. “You said you were trying to cross some imaginary line into adulthood, because it meant you wouldn’t get left behind. I don’t know if we’ll cross that line or erase it or draw a new one, but I’m here, and I’m staying here. With you.”

He leaned into her touch. “That’s all I need.”

Then they were kissing again, their hands hurrying over each other’s bodies, trying to touch everywhere at once. She sighed as his lips drew a trail of heat down her neck.

Max nipped her collarbone. “Why didn’t I end the damn contest earlier? I should be dragging you back to your cabin right now.”

“How caveman of you.”

“You could drag me. I’m not picky.” Max dug his phone out of his pocket. Emma blinked at the sudden light. “We need to be at the dock in twenty minutes.”

Emma considered their surroundings. Based on the noise, people were still milling about the camp, moving between one activity and another. They were getting louder, and she suspected someone had found a way to serve drinks in the dark boathouse.

No one was heading their way—and camp was still pitch-dark.

“We only need ten,” she said. Emma tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the giant slide. She found the ladder and climbed to the platform at the top. Max followed. By the time he joined her, she’d already taken off her clothes.

Max’s hands found the bare curve of her ass and massaged her cheeks with rough hands. She tore at the buttons of his shorts and let them fall, then lifted the waistband of his boxer briefs over his thick cock. They both groaned as it sprang free.

“There’s a condom in my pocket,” he said, pushing his underwear down as she knelt to retrieve it. “I was a little presumptuous.”

“Optimistic,” she corrected, and unrolled it over his shaft.

It wasn’t slow or sweet or even especially comfortable. The metal under her back was cold and hard, and the studs sometimes dug into her shoulder.

But it was Max, and that made everything else fall away. It was his hands finding her most sensitive places, his lips on her throat, his teeth biting the top of her breast. It was his gorgeous cock thrusting deep inside of her, his hips pumping fast and sending them both rocketing toward a quick release.

And what it wasn’t was more important than what it was.

It wasn’t goodbye.

* * *

Afterward, they dressed quickly, though they kept finding excuses to touch as they moved in the tight space. When they were presentable and had no more reason to delay their return to camp, Emma perched at the top of the slide. Max sat behind her and pulled her into the frame of his body. His legs surrounded hers, and his strong arms wrapped around her tightly. Smiling, she leaned back into his solid chest.

As one, they pushed off, and her smile widened as they spun around the first turn. They picked up speed the entire way down, until it felt like they were racing through the night. Together.

* * *

The final challenge was a simple one, a rematch of the swimming contest from the lifesaving badge. They had to swim in the dark to a buoy with a single light on its top. Each team nominated its fastest swimmer.

Emma didn’t glance at her opponent. It didn’t matter who it was, because when she hit the water, no one would be able to catch her, not even an Olympic athlete. She’d thought she was soaring on the swings? She had no idea. Racing through the water, knowing Max waited for her on the shore—that was flying. The competition no longer mattered.

Of course, she still took the trophy with her when she left.