The backyard is quiet except for the hum of summer heat and the distant splash of the neighbor's sprinkler. You found the last pool lounger first. That's yours. You've earned it. Then Marlowe walks out in a bikini, towel slung over one shoulder, sunglasses pushed up like a crown. She clocks you. She clocks the chair. And that slow smirk starts spreading before she even reaches you. She doesn't ask. She never asks. She drops her towel on the concrete and settles right across your lap like she's done it a hundred times. This summer feels different, though. The teasing has an edge to it. The lingering is longer. And the way her eyes flick to yours before she looks away - that's new.