We were absolutely soaked from head to toe.

  Water dripped from the ends of Astrid’s hair, the damp strands sticking to her cheek. My sweater clung uncomfortably to my skin, heavy with rain, the fabric stubbornly refusing to dry. The cold had settled into my bones, and every breath I took came with a faint shiver.

  The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind that distinct scent of wet pavement and fresh earth. The dark clouds, once thick and unrelenting, were slowly peeling back, streaks of golden sunlight slicing through the lingering mist. The shift felt strange—like the world had been rinsed clean, like we had stepped into a new version of the same moment.

  Astrid shivered.

  Without thinking, I tightened my grip around her hand. She gnced up at me, her lips twitching like she wanted to make a joke but was too cold to commit to it. Her fingers curled slightly around mine, seeking warmth.

  “We should call your mum so we can go home and change into dry clothes,” I suggested, my voice quieter than usual.

  Astrid exhaled, her breath visible in the cool air. “She’s not going to be thrilled,” she murmured, though there was a wry smile pying on her lips.

  I studied her for a moment, then let my gaze drift down to where our hands were still tangled together.

  “Well…” I said, deliberately trailing off, looking at her with a pointed expression.

  Astrid arched an eyebrow. “Well, what?”

  I smirked. “You’re the one who insisted on standing in the rain.”

  She scoffed, rolling her eyes before bumping her shoulder against mine. “Yeah, well, I regret nothing.”

  I chuckled, squeezing her hand once before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket. The screen was streaked with water, the rain having completely drenched everything—including whatever common sense Astrid and I should have had.

  Still, as I gnced at her—cheeks flushed, hair a mess, blue eyes still sparkling with mischief—I couldn’t bring myself to regret it either.

  Astrid let out a small sigh, running a hand through her drenched hair before attempting to wring some of the water out. It didn’t do much—her blonde strands were still sticking stubbornly to her skin, droplets trailing down her neck.

  I swallowed, forcing myself to look away as I pulled out my phone. The screen was completely soaked, water streaking across it, making it almost impossible to use.

  “This thing better not be broken,” I muttered under my breath, attempting to wipe it off on my already-drenched sweater.

  Astrid peeked over my shoulder, watching as I struggled to unlock it.

  “Wouldn’t that be tragic?” she teased.

  I shot her a ft look. “I swear to God, if my phone dies because of you—”

  She grinned, completely unbothered. “You’d survive.”

  I huffed. “Debatable.”

  Still, after a few frustrating attempts, I finally got the screen to work. Then I realized—

  “I, uh… don’t actually have your mum’s number,” I admitted, gncing at Astrid.

  She blinked, then smirked. “Aww, what? You mean you haven’t been secretly texting my mum behind my back?”

  I scowled. “Astrid, give me the number.”

  She snickered, but rattled off the digits anyway. I quickly typed them in and hit call, my heart already bracing itself for whatever level of judgment was about to be thrown my way.

  The phone rang three times before her mum picked up.

  “Astrid?” Her voice was smooth, immediately suspicious.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh… actually, it’s Henry.”

  There was a pause. “…Henry?”

  Astrid immediately started ughing, muffling it against my shoulder.

  I gred at her.

  “Yeah,” I continued, gripping the phone tighter. “So, uh, funny story…”

  I could feel Astrid’s mum raising an eyebrow through the phone.

  “What kind of funny story?” she asked slowly.

  I hesitated.

  Astrid was smirking at me, clearly enjoying the fact that I was the one dealing with this.

  “Well,” I said, running a hand down my face. “Long story short, we… may have gotten caught in the rain.”

  Silence.

  Then—

  Astrid’s mum sighed.

  “Of course you did.”

  Astrid wheezed, gripping onto my sleeve for support.

  I pushed her off me. “Stop ughing.”

  “I can’t,” she choked out.

  Astrid’s mum sounded thoroughly unimpressed when she spoke again.

  “So let me get this straight,” she said dryly. “I let you two loose in the city for a few hours, and instead of shopping like normal people, you decided to have a romantic rain-soaked moment like something out of a bad teen movie?”

  I turned red. “I—”

  “YEP!” Astrid cut in loudly, still ughing.

  I groaned.

  Astrid’s mum sighed again. “I should’ve expected this, honestly.”

  “That’s fair,” I muttered.

  “So,” she continued, “I assume you two are drenched, freezing, and in desperate need of towels?”

  “…That would be correct.”

  “Alright,” she said, sounding way too amused. “I’ll come get you. Try not to get hypothermia before I arrive.”

  Astrid grinned. “No promises.”

  I sighed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Henry,” she said smoothly, “you really don’t have to be so formal. But since you insist—” she paused, definitely smirking on the other end— “you’re welcome, son-in-w.”

  I choked on air.

  Astrid completely lost it.

  “Okay, bye,” I spluttered, hanging up before I could fully process what just happened.

  Astrid colpsed against me, her entire body shaking with ughter.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped. “Henry, she likes you too much.”

  I dragged a hand down my face, feeling far too many emotions at once.

  “I hate everything,” I muttered.

  Astrid grinned, wrapping her arms around me again, ignoring how soaked we already were.

  “Shut up,” she said, pressing a damp kiss to my cheek. “You love me.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

  ***

  Astrid’s mum pulled up to the house, barely putting the car in park before Astrid dragged me out, still clinging to my arm like I might escape if she let go for even a second.

  Which, to be fair, wasn’t a completely unrealistic assumption.

  Because the first thing on my mind—after finally getting out of our rain-drenched clothes—was going home.

  I stepped inside, my shoes squelching against the floor. Astrid let out a dramatic groan, kicking off her own soaked sneakers before stretching her arms above her head.

  “God, I love the rain,” she sighed happily.

  I shot her a look. “Yeah. Tell that to my completely ruined sweater.”

  She grinned. “That sweater looks way better wet.”

  I scowled. “Astrid, I swear—”

  “Alright, kids,” her mum cut in, shaking her head fondly. “Astrid, go change before you catch a cold. Henry, if you’d like, you’re welcome to stay and get cleaned up here.”

  I froze. “Oh—uh, I appreciate it, but I should probably just head home.”

  Astrid turned immediately, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “What?” she said ftly.

  I shifted uncomfortably. “I should go.”

  Her scowl deepened. “Why?”

  I gestured vaguely at myself. “Because I need to shower. And change. And I don’t live here, Astrid.”

  Astrid huffed, crossing her arms. “So? You shower at school after gym, don’t you?”

  I blinked. “…That’s not the same thing.”

  She grinned suddenly. “What, are you shy?”

  I scowled. “No.”

  “Then stay,” she said simply.

  I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. “I really should—”

  Astrid grabbed my sleeve, tugging me closer.

  Her mum watched us, clearly amused but staying out of it.

  “Henry,” Astrid said, giving me a very serious look. “I almost died from hypothermia with you today.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “We were literally just—”

  “Almost died,” she repeated dramatically. “And now you’re abandoning me when I need you most?”

  I groaned. “Astrid, please.”

  She tugged my sleeve again. “Come on, boyfriend.”

  I rubbed my temples. “Astrid.”

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Henry.”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to give in.

  Astrid’s mum chuckled from behind us.

  “You might as well stay, Henry,” she said knowingly. “Trust me—if Astrid wants something, she doesn’t let it go.”

  Astrid smirked, tightening her hold on my sleeve. “See? Even my mum agrees.”

  I exhaled, already knowing I had lost.

  “Fine,” I muttered.

  Astrid beamed. “Good boy.”

  I scowled. “Don’t push it.”

  She just grinned wider, practically dragging me toward the stairs.

  “Come on,” she said, smug as ever. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

  I choked.

  Astrid’s mum ughed.

  “Astrid,” I said, mortified. “Phrase it better.”

  Astrid cackled, leading me toward her room.

  ***

  Astrid’s room was warm, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled into my bones. The scent of her shampoo and faint traces of her perfume lingered in the air, a mix of something sweet and distinctly her.

  I was still standing in the middle of the room, dripping onto her carpet, my sweater clinging to my skin uncomfortably.

  Astrid, meanwhile, was still grinning like she had won something, despite the fact that I’d agreed to stay entirely against my better judgment.

  “You’re still soaked,” she pointed out, tilting her head at me. “You should really take that off before you catch a cold.”

  I gave her a look. “And wear what? One of your crop tops?”

  She smirked. “I do think you’d look fantastic in one.”

  I groaned, running a hand down my face. “Astrid—”

  She snickered. “Fine, fine. I’ll get you something.”

  Before I could protest, she turned toward her closet, digging through drawers with zero urgency, humming under her breath as I stood there, damp and miserable.

  “You’re enjoying this way too much,” I muttered.

  Astrid gnced over her shoulder, winking. “Of course I am.”

  I sighed, peeling off my sweater with a grimace, the wet fabric sticking to my skin before finally coming off. I ran a hand through my damp hair, still chilled from the rain.

  The moment I pulled my sweater off, the entire energy in the room shifted.

  Astrid went completely silent.

  I barely had time to process it before she stepped closer, her gaze fixed on my bare chest with an intensity that sent a jolt straight through me.

  I swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between us—of how little space there actually was.

  Her hands lifted, hesitating for only a second before her fingers skimmed over my colrbone, slow and deliberate.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my skin burning under her touch.

  She felt it.

  Her lips curled, but there was something different in her expression now. Something deeper.

  Like she wasn’t just teasing me anymore.

  Like she was feeling this just as much as I was.

  She dragged her hands down, tracing the lines of my shoulders, over the ridges of my arms, before ghosting her fingers down my stomach.

  My muscles tensed involuntarily, and Astrid noticed—her smirk flickering for just a second before her eyes darkened.

  I could not breathe.

  The air between us felt thick, like we were caught in something far bigger than just the moment.

  She took another step forward, pressing herself against me, her lips brushing against my jaw, her breath warm against my skin.

  I clenched my fists at my sides, desperate for some kind of control.

  She pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below my ear.

  I exhaled sharply.

  “Astrid,” I warned, my voice low, barely above a whisper.

  She hummed. “Hmm?”

  I swallowed, my hands lifting instinctively to her waist, gripping onto her like she was the only thing keeping me grounded.

  She tilted her head up, her lips so close to mine, her hands sliding up my arms until they reached my wrists.

  Then, slowly, she guided them up.

  Over the curve of her waist.

  Higher.

  Over her ribs.

  Until my fingers just barely brushed against the undersides of her breasts.

  I stiffened completely, my entire body locked in pce.

  Astrid’s breath hitched, her own hands trembling slightly against mine.

  For the first time tonight, she was the one who hesitated.

  I felt it in the way her fingers curled around my wrists, in the way her heartbeat pounded against my chest.

  This wasn’t just her messing with me anymore.

  She wanted this.

  She wanted me.

  The realization hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming and terrifying and addictive all at once.

  Astrid swallowed, her voice noticeably more breathless when she spoke again.

  “Henry…”

  My hands trembled against her, but I didn’t move them away.

  I couldn’t.

  She pulled back just slightly, enough to look up at me, her blue eyes hazy, full of something unreadable—something raw.

  The same thing I was feeling.

  Without thinking, without hesitating, I tilted my head down and kissed her.

  She gasped softly against my mouth, like she hadn’t expected it—even though she had been the one to push me this far.

  Her hands slid up, threading into my damp hair, pulling me closer, deeper.

  The kiss was different from the others.

  It was needy, almost desperate.

  Like the rain had ignited something in her that she wasn’t ready to let go of yet.

  I let her take the lead, let her guide me through the intensity of it, let her press her body against mine until I could feel every inch of her.

  Her nails scraped against the back of my neck, and I shuddered.

  She felt it.

  She broke the kiss, breathing hard, her forehead resting against mine.

  Her hands slid down my chest again, over my stomach, fingers hesitating at the waistband of my jeans.

  I froze.

  Astrid paused, her breathing uneven, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric.

  For a tense, electrified moment, neither of us moved.

  Then—

  She exhaled sharply and let go.

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  She took a small step back, biting her lip, her face flushed, her blue eyes wide.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, voice softer now.

  I blinked, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

  “Don’t be,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse.

  She swallowed, her hands dropping to her sides.

  I could see the war in her expression.

  She wanted to keep going.

  And the worst part?

  So did I.

  But something about the moment—the hesitation in her fingers, the slight tremble in her breath—made me pull back just slightly.

  I reached up, brushing my fingers lightly against her cheek, tilting her head up so she would look at me.

  Her lips parted slightly, her breath still uneven.

  I smiled, softly, trying to steady whatever storm was raging in her mind.

  “We’ll take it slow,” I murmured.

  Astrid exhaled shakily, her shoulders rexing just slightly.

  Then, finally—

  She smiled back.

  “Slow, huh?” she murmured, brushing her lips against mine again, teasing but tender. “I think I can handle that.”

  I huffed a quiet ugh. “Good.”

  She lingered there for a second longer before finally stepping back, grabbing the shirt from the bed and pressing it against my chest.

  “Get changed before I actually break you,” she said, smirking slightly, but there was a warmth in her expression now—something less pyful, something real.

  I took the shirt from her hand, shaking my head. “You almost did.”

  Astrid grinned. “Almost.”

  I sighed, turning toward the bathroom.

  Before I could step inside, she called out—

  “Henry?”

  I gnced back.

  She was standing there, looking at me like she wanted to memorize this moment.

  “…I really like you, you know.”

  I exhaled.

  I smiled.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “I really like you too.”

  And then, finally, I stepped into the bathroom—leaving whatever this was lingering between us, knowing it was only going to grow from here.