Olivia's POV
I had just finished wiping the last plate in the kitchen. I set it gently in the rack and took a breath, enjoying the small feeling of being done.
Suddenly, a hand closed around my wrist.
"Come with me," Noah said, already pulling.
"Noah—wait," I said, half laughing, half confused. "What's happening? Where are we going?"
He didn't answer right away. He just kept dragging me through the back door and across the yard. His steps were quick, almost excited.
We stopped in front of Adrian's shed. Noah let go of my hand, pushed the door open, and disappeared inside for a moment. I stayed outside, confused, brushing dust from my fingers.
Then he came back out, pushing a bike.
His smile was huge, almost boyish.
"Why didn't you tell me there was a bike in the shed?" he asked.
I blinked in surprise.
"Oh," I said. "I thought Adrian told you about it. I guess he forgot… or I did."
I stepped closer to the bike and ran my fingers along the handle. The metal was a bit cold to the touch, the paint a little scratched, but still the same.
"I forgot about this bike," I murmured.
As soon as I said it, memories came rushing back.
Adrian and I, years ago, took turns sitting on the seat and standing on the pedals. Him riding fast down the small slope behind the house while I screamed and laughed at the same time. Late afternoon rides, wind in my hair, his voice in my ear telling me to hold on tight.
This bike wasn't just an old thing in a shed. It was full of important moments. It held so many small, unforgettable pieces of us.
I got so lost in those memories that I didn't notice Noah calling my name at first.
"Olivia? … Olivia."
I looked up, snapping back to the present.
"Sorry," I said. "What did you say?"
He smiled, a little softer this time.
"I said," he repeated, "we should go for a ride."
"A ride?" I asked. "Now?"
"Yes, now," he said. "Come on. It'll be fun. We'll just go around near the house."
I looked at the bike, then at him. Something inside me hesitated for a second, but the idea of feeling the wind, of moving, of not thinking too much… it sounded good.
"Okay," I said at last. "Let's go."
His smile widened.
"Great," he said. "Hop on."
I sat on the back of the bike, my hands resting lightly on Noah's shoulders at first.
"Tell me if I'm too heavy," I joked.
"You're not," he answered. "If the bike breaks, I'll blame the road, not you."
I laughed and held on a bit tighter as he started pedaling.
We planned to stay close to the house, just circling the yard and the lane nearby. But as the minutes passed, the air felt cooler, the ride smoother, and neither of us said.
Before we knew it, we had followed the familiar road all the way to the creek.
We stopped in the middle of the small bridge, and Noah put his feet down to steady the bike.
"Wow," I said, letting go of his shoulders and stepping off.
We both got off the bike and stood side by side, looking down at the water streaming below us. The creek moved slowly, the light catching on small ripples. The trees around us were quiet, only a few leaves dancing in the breeze.
"It's peaceful," I said.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Feels like the rest of the world is far away."
For a moment, we just stood there, breathing in the cool air.
Then, without warning, something dry and crackly hit my shoulder and hair.
I gasped and turned around. Noah was standing a few steps away, his hand open, dried leaves falling from his fingers.
"Noah!" I cried. "Did you just throw leaves at me?"
He tried to keep a serious face but failed.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe the wind did."
"The wind, huh?" I replied, narrowing my eyes.
I bent down, scooped up a handful of dried leaves from the ground, and threw them right at him.
He coughed, laughing as the leaves hit his chest and hair.
"Okay, okay—so it's war now?" he said.
"Definitely war," I answered.
Without noticing how it started, we were suddenly like kids.
We grabbed more leaves, throwing them at each other, shouting, laughing, dodging back and forth. Some leaves stuck to our clothes and hair. At one point, he chased me to the other end of the bridge, and I ran away, screaming and laughing until my sides hurt.
"Stop!" I shouted between giggles.
"Never!" he yelled back, grinning.
Our laughter echoed above the creek, mixing with the sound of the water.
Then, in the middle of the chaos, his hand caught mine.
He pulled gently but firmly, and I stumbled forward, my steps stopping.
"Noah—" I started, but the word died on my lips.
He tugged me closer and pulled me into an embrace.
His arms wrapped around me, solid and warm. For a moment, I froze, my hands caught between us. I could hear his heartbeat, feel his chest rise and fall. The world seemed to go quiet, like someone had turned the volume down.
I didn't know where to put my hands, what to say, what face to make.
After a long minute, he slowly let go. The air between us felt different now, heavier, like it was filled with something we hadn't named yet.
He gave me a small, almost shy smile, then turned toward the bike.
"We should head back before it gets too dark."
I nodded, my own smile a little weak.
"Yeah," I said.
He took a step toward the bike—then suddenly stopped.
His whole body seemed to freeze in place. His eyes were fixed on something ahead.
"Noah?" I asked. "What's wrong?"
I followed his gaze.
Adrian was standing at the other end of the bridge.
My heart jumped.
"Adrian!" I called out, my voice brighter, happier than I even meant it to be.
I ran toward him without thinking. The closer I got, the clearer his face became—tired, a bit dusty from travel, but smiling when he saw me.
He opened his arms, and I went straight into them.
He hugged me tightly, holding me for a long second before pulling back just enough to kiss me.
"You're back," I said, a little breathless.
"Yeah," he replied softly. "I wanted to surprise you."
Behind us, I heard footsteps. Noah walked over, pushing the bike beside him. His face was calm, but his eyes were hard to read.
"Hey," Adrian said, nodding at him. "You two came all the way out here?"
"Yeah," Noah answered. "We found the old bike. Thought we'd test if it still works."
Adrian smiled faintly.
"Good," he said. "But it's getting late. Let's all head back."
He took my hand in his, his fingers closing around mine. Noah walked in front of us with the bike, his back turned. Adrian and I followed slowly.
Something feels wrong
On the outside, nothing looked strange.
Adrian was here. His hand was in mine.
But something was off.
When he had kissed me just now, there had been weight in it—something heavy, like a stone at the bottom of a river. It wasn't the same easy, light kiss from before.
I glanced up at his face.
He was smiling. Anyone else would think he was fine. But his eyes… his eyes were different. They were full of something sad and distant, like he was looking at something I couldn't see.
I squeezed his hand lightly.
"Tired?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
He looked down at me and gave a small laugh.
"Yeah, a bit," he said.
His words were light, but his eyes didn't match.
Every step we took, the feeling grew stronger. Something in him had changed. Something between us had shifted, even if I couldn't name it yet.
And it scared me.
He scared me.
Not because I thought he would hurt me, but because it felt like he was about to say or do something that would change everything.
And deep inside, I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it.