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Matt crossed his arms over his chest—a gesture that felt protective rather than casual.

"Hey everyone," Jonas announced, "this is Matt. We're neighbors."

A few nods and "heys" from the group, though the pretty girl—black hair, red flannel tied at her waist, kept staring. Not hostile. Just puzzled, like she'd seen a word spelled wrong and couldn't look away.

"You okay?" she asked directly, stepping closer. "You look kind of… I don't know. Sick?"

"I'm fine," Matt said quickly. That voice, lighter now, with a texture he didn't recognize. A few people glanced over at the sound of it.

Jonas handed him a beer from the cooler. "Matt's just tired. Right?"

"Right." Matt took the bottle, noticing his fingers wrapped around it, slender, nails slightly longer than before. He turned slightly away from the firelight, trying to stay in shadow.

"Here." The dark-haired girl was still watching him, now holding out a hoodie. "You're shivering. Lake gets cold at night."

He hadn't even noticed. But now that she mentioned it, goosebumps raced up his arms, his skin hypersensitive to the temperature drop.

The ring pulsed.

"Thanks," he managed, pulling the hoodie on. It was too big, but it hid his chest, his narrow shoulders, the way his shirt fit wrong. He breathed a little easier.

Jonas settled onto a log near the fire and patted the spot beside him.

Matt's stomach flipped. That pull again—warm, magnetic, wrong.

But his feet were already moving.