What's happening to me...

The drive to the lake was only twenty minutes, but Matt spent every second hyper-aware of his own body.

The rearview mirror showed a face that was almost his—but the jawline had softened, the lips looked fuller, and his eyelashes were undeniably longer. He kept catching himself shifting in the seat, his narrower frame sliding slightly against the upholstery.

His clothes still fit. Mostly. But the waist of his hiking pants bunched oddly now, and the sleeves of his flannel covered more wrist than they should have.

Slow, he told himself. It's slow. You have time.

But time for what? He didn't even know what the ring was.

The lake came into view—three trucks pulled near a fire pit already crackling, half a dozen people milling around with drinks. Jonas hopped out and waved him over.

"Come on, I'll introduce you."

Matt climbed out and immediately felt the breeze differently against his skin. More sensitive. The evening air carried every sound—the pop of the fire, laughter, someone's dog splashing in the shallows.

Jonas's hand found the small of his back to guide him forward.

Matt's whole body flushed warm.

"Easy there," Jonas chuckled, misreading the reaction. "They don't bite."

But Matt barely heard him. All he could process was the hand on his back—how natural it felt, how much he wanted it to stay there.

A pretty girl near the fire glanced at him, then did a double-take with a small, confused frown.

She wasn't the only one looking.

The ring pulsed, and Matt felt his chest shift—subtly, slowly—beneath the flannel.

Oh God.