Right? Marcus…

Her stomach drops. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. She presses her thighs tighter together, her hands still cupped over herself, but it's useless — the thought of him seeing everything she just did, captured in crisp detail, makes her feel like the ground beneath the lounger might open up and swallow her whole.

"You're not going to watch it," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Right? Marcus, please. I didn't know it was on. I wouldn't have—I didn't mean for you to see that."

Marcus shakes his head slowly. "I'm not going to watch it. I'll send the raw files straight to your phone tonight. You can do whatever you want with them. Delete them, keep them, send them to Joe — your call. I won't even open the folder."

Izzy stares at him, her heart hammering. There's something in the way he says it, the casual ease, the promise he doesn't have to make. She doesn't know if she believes him. But she also doesn't know what else to do.

"Thank you," she says, her voice cracking slightly. "I mean it. I don't know what I'd do if—" She stops, shaking her head. "I'll go inside. I'll, uh, clean up. You never saw me out here, okay?"

Marcus just gives her an acknowledging wink before she runs back in. She can feel him staring at her naked body.

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