I was still looking toward Callum when Jackson leaned in a little closer.
"Trust me," he said under his breath, lips just inches from my ear.
Before I could ask what he meant, his hand slid gently to my jaw — thumb brushing my cheek like he'd done it a hundred times before. His touch wasn't heavy, not urgent. Just enough pressure to make me freeze.
Then he kissed me.
It wasn't fireworks or the world-stopping kind of kiss people wrote songs about. It was soft. Steady. A quiet, intentional nudge.
Just long enough to feel real.
Just short enough to feel unfinished.
I blinked, stunned, as he pulled away with a small smile like he hadn't just flipped the dynamic sideways.
Behind us, Liv let out a sharp laugh, caught halfway between surprise and amusement.
"Well, damn," she said, tossing a towel at him. "Was that the push you were talking about?"
Jackson grinned and wiped imaginary lipstick off his mouth. "Just doing the universe a favor."
I tried to roll my eyes, but I knew my cheeks were flushed — and not just from the heat.
My eyes flicked back toward the patio.
Callum.
Still in his chair.
But now sitting very still.
One hand clenched loosely around his water bottle. His jaw was tense. His gaze locked on Jackson like he was seeing something he didn't want to believe.
Our eyes met for a second.
And even though he didn't say a word, his expression said enough.
Not angry.
Not jealous, even.
Just… like something in him had finally cracked.
I looked away first.
Because suddenly, it felt like something was happening.
Something neither of us could undo.