The late afternoon sun hung low over the glassy surface of Beaver Lake, casting golden ripples across the water that mirrored the restless stirrings in Shay’s chest. He stepped out of his beat-up Chevy, the gravel crunching under his sneakers, and took a long, deep breath of the crisp Arkansas air. The lake house loomed before him, a modern masterpiece of wood and glass, perched on a gentle slope with a sprawling deck that overlooked the serene expanse below. Starr had outdone herself with this purchase—her latest real estate triumph—and Shay couldn’t help but feel a twinge of awe as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and made his way up the path.
The hum of family energy hit him before he even reached the door. Laughter, the clatter of plates, and the faint sizzle of a grill drifted through the open windows, pulling him into the familiar chaos of Starr’s world. At eighteen, Shay was still the gangly little brother, all limbs and awkward angles, forever trailing behind his powerhouse of a sister. But this weekend, he’d come to escape the monotony of his single life—small-town boredom, dead-end part-time jobs, and a dating pool shallower than a kiddie puddle. Here, at least, there’d be distraction.
“Shay! You finally dragged your sorry ass out of bed to join us!” Starr’s voice boomed from the deck as he stepped inside, her tone a mix of mockery and affection that only she could pull off. She stood by the grill, spatula in hand, her curvy frame wrapped in a fitted tank top and denim shorts that hugged every inch of her fit, busty silhouette. At thirty, Starr was a force of nature—confident, commanding, and unapologetically direct. Her dark hair was swept into a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her sharp, sun-kissed features, and her hazel eyes glinted with mischief as she sized him up.
“Hey, I made it, didn’t I?” Shay shot back, trying to match her energy but feeling the heat creep up his neck under her gaze. He dropped his bag by the door and shuffled toward the deck, where the rest of the family buzzed around—Starr’s husband, Mark, wrestling with their three kids near a picnic table, and the nanny, Ashley, setting out a tray of lemonade. But Shay’s eyes kept drifting back to Starr, catching on the way her tank top clung to her curves as she flipped a burger with a flick of her wrist. He’d always known she was attractive—hell, everyone did—but today, something felt different. Sharper. Like a switch had flipped in his brain, and now he couldn’t unsee it.
“You call that making it? You’re two hours late, beanpole,” Starr teased, pointing the spatula at him like a weapon. “What, did you stop to flirt with every gas station cashier on the way here?”
Shay snorted, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the deck railing. “Nah, I save all my charm for you, sis. Gotta keep you on your toes.”
Her laugh was loud, unfiltered, and it sent a strange jolt through him. “Oh, please. You couldn’t charm a paper bag. Look at you—still all arms and legs, tripping over your own feet. You’re gonna scare the fish away just by standing there.”
“Harsh,” Shay muttered, but a grin tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help it—her jabs were sharp, but they had a warmth to them, a playfulness that made him want to keep sparring. “Maybe I’ll surprise you one of these days. I’ve got moves you haven’t seen yet.”
Starr raised an eyebrow, her smirk wicked as she plated a burger and handed it to him, her fingers brushing his for the briefest of seconds. The contact was fleeting, accidental, but it sent a spark skittering up his arm, and he nearly dropped the damn plate. “Moves, huh? I’ll believe that when I see it. Right now, you can barely handle a burger without looking like a lost puppy.”
He fumbled for a comeback, his brain short-circuiting as he caught the glint in her eye—a lingering, teasing look that made his stomach flip. “Yeah, well… maybe I just need the right teacher,” he mumbled, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He winced internally. Too close. Too weird.
But Starr didn’t seem to notice the undercurrent. She just laughed again, shaking her head as she turned back to the grill. “Keep dreaming, kid. Stick to eating before you hurt yourself with that wit.”
Shay took a bite of the burger, mostly to hide the flush creeping up his face, and let his gaze wander over the lake. But his mind wasn’t on the water. It was on her—the way her hips swayed just slightly as she moved, the confident tilt of her chin when she barked orders at Mark to grab more buns, the effortless way she commanded the space around her. He’d spent his whole life looking up to Starr as the big sister who had it all together, the one who’d bailed him out of trouble more times than he could count. But now… now there was something else stirring, something he couldn’t quite name. Or maybe didn’t want to.
“Yo, Shay, you gonna stand there daydreaming all day, or are you gonna help set up for tomorrow?” Starr’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing he’d been staring at her for too long. She stood with one hand on her hip, the other waving a pair of tongs, her expression a mix of amusement and impatience.
“Tomorrow?” he echoed, trying to play it cool as he set his plate down and crossed his arms.
“Yeah, genius. We’re taking the boat out for some tubing. Kids are dying to get on the water, and I’m not about to let a perfectly good weekend go to waste. So, you in, or are you gonna chicken out like you did last time?”
Shay smirked, sensing an opening to push back. “Last time, I was twelve, and you nearly drowned me with that death trap of a tube. I’m in, but only if you promise not to sabotage me again.”
Starr stepped closer, her presence suddenly overwhelming as she tilted her head and fixed him with a mock-serious stare. “Sabotage? Sweetie, if I wanted to drown you, you’d be at the bottom of this lake already. I’m just gonna make sure you don’t embarrass yourself too badly in front of the kids. Deal?”
Her proximity made his pulse spike, the faint scent of sunscreen and charcoal clinging to her skin. He swallowed hard, forcing a grin. “Deal. But don’t cry when I outlast you on the water.”
“Oh, it’s on, beanpole,” she shot back, her voice dripping with challenge as she turned away, her laughter trailing behind her like a dare.
Shay watched her go, his chest tight with something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—acknowledge. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of family chatter, sticky s’mores, and the kids’ endless energy, but his mind kept circling back to Starr. Every glance, every quip, every accidental brush of her arm against his as they cleared the table—it all fed the quiet obsession taking root in his head. He knew it was wrong, knew he had to bury it deep, but the more he tried, the more it clawed at him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the lake in shades of violet and amber, Starr clapped her hands to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, crew, early start tomorrow. Tubing at dawn, so get some rest. Shay, don’t oversleep, or I’m dragging you out of bed myself.”
Her eyes locked on his for a split second, a playful threat dancing in them, and Shay felt his breath catch. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he managed, his voice steadier than he felt.
She smirked, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him, and turned back to her family, the ever-present matriarch steering her ship. But as Shay headed inside to crash on the guest room couch, the image of her lingered—strong, untouchable, and impossibly magnetic. Tomorrow, out on the water, they’d be closer than ever, the lake’s waves pulling them into uncharted territory. And Shay wasn’t sure if he was ready for the ride.
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