Page 18 of Make Out With A Merman

It earns me a small, tired snort.

I’ll take it.

We sit there, two silhouettes against a quiet lake, long after the moon’s shifted and the air’s gone crisp.

And for once... I don’t need to fill the silence.

Because he’s filled it with something real.

As the night stretches on, I sit there a little longer, the quiet between us settling like a comfortable weight. The water laps softly against the dock, and the stars flicker above us like scattered confetti. Neither of us speaks. Neither of us needs to.

I catch myself glancing at him more than I probably should. The way the moonlight hits his jawline, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the slight shift of his posture whenever he thinks I’m not looking.

It’s maddening how much he pulls at something in me I’m trying to ignore.

“Ryder,” I say quietly, breaking the silence. “How do you know when to let go?”

He looks at me, the silver in his eyes reflecting a question I hadn’t even fully formed yet.

“Let go of what?” he asks, voice low.

“Of... everything. Of control, of being the one who holds the weight of the world together. How do you know when to stop holding on so tight?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns to face me fully, his movements slow, deliberate. His gaze flickers to the water, then back to me.

“I’m still learning,” he says, almost like it’s a confession.

I smile, my heart light in my chest. “We all are.”

And then, without thinking, I shift closer. Just a little. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body despite the cool night air. His scent, faintly salty like the lake, fills the space between us.

He doesn’t move away. Doesn’t back up.

Instead, he holds my gaze, his face softened in a way I haven’t seen before.

“Callie,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy.”

I bite back a grin. “You’re not the only one.”

Before either of us can second-guess it he leans forward, just enough that our foreheads almost touch. His breath mingles with mine, soft and steady.

I feel a flutter in my chest, something unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

For a moment, we just stay there, so close I can feel his heartbeat syncing with mine.

I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, his lips are brushing against my ear, his voice a quiet murmur.

“If I let go,” he says, “what happens?”

I close my eyes for a moment, letting the question settle in. “We find out,” I whisper back.

And for the first time in a long while, I’m not scared of the answer.

CHAPTER 8

RYDER

Iwake choking on saltwater.

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