Chapter 3: I'm Glad It's You
Aria's POV
I wake up to seabirds and soft morning light. My cheek presses against something warm.
Devon's shoulder.
I freeze. Every muscle locks up.
His voice comes out rough and way too amused. "Morning. Sleep good?"
I sit up fast, messing with my hair like that'll erase what just happened.
"The ground's hard. That's all."
Devon rubs his neck, smirking already. "Sure. That why you were drooling on me?"
"I was NOT."
"Whatever you say." He stretches, casual. "But you snored a little."
"I do not snore!"
"If that helps you sleep." He stands and brushes sand off his jeans. "Literally."
My face burns. I actually slept through the night on his shoulder. Worse? I slept well. Better than I have in five years.
Devon rolls his shoulders. "We need water. Real water, not just coconuts."
I get up too. "There should be a stream inland."
Online, the comments pour in:
"Devon is such a tease I love it"
"The way she got flustered hahaha"
"They slept on each other I'M NOT OKAY"
The jungle hits us with humidity the second we step in. Sweat starts immediately. I take the lead, Devon behind me. Sun filters through the canopy in scattered beams.
He watches me check plants as we walk. "You really know this stuff, huh?"
I crouch by a fern. "My grandma had a garden in Seattle. Taught me what's safe to eat and what'll kill you."
"Handy for Hollywood," he says, light.
I stand and keep moving. "More handy here, apparently."
Those summer afternoons in grandma's garden. Never thought those lessons would save my life one day.
The sound of running water reaches us.
"Hear that?" I speed up.
"Water!" Devon catches up.
I step onto a moss-covered rock. My foot slips.
A hand grabs my wrist and yanks me back. I crash into his chest.
Devon's arm wraps around my waist. His other hand grips my wrist tight. Our faces end up inches apart. I can see every shade of blue in his eyes. He smells like saltwater and sun. Not bad at all.
"Careful," he says quietly, breathing hard. "Can't have you breaking something out here."
My heart pounds. I step back. "Thanks. I'm fine."
He lets go but his eyes stay on me. "You sure?"
"I said I'm fine." I turn and keep walking.
She still smells like coconut and something else. Something that's just her. This is gonna be a long week. Devon's thought trails behind me.
We reach the stream. Clear water runs over smooth rocks. Devon tests it with his fingers. "Looks clean. Should be safe."
We fill coconut shells and big leaves with water. I drink first. The cold slides down my throat. Best thing I've tasted in forever.
The comments explode:
"That was straight out of a drama"
"Aria's face was SO RED"
"Sexual tension: 📈📈📈"
Back at camp, we set the water in shade. The sun beats down harder. Devon looks at our supplies.
"Next thing. Fire."
He grabs the flint and starts trying. Once. Twice. Five times. Nothing. Sweat runs down his face. His grip gets tighter with each fail.
After ten tries, he throws the stone in the sand.
"This is impossible."
He sits, hands on his knees.
I pick up the flint. "It's not impossible. You're just impatient."
His head snaps up. "Oh, you try then. Since you're so good at everything."
"I will."
I kneel and rearrange the dry grass. First try fails. I adjust the angle. Second fails. I swap out the grass. Fifth fails. I change positions.
Devon watches.
She's always been like this. Sets her mind on something and nothing stops her. That's why she left. That's why I couldn't make her stay.
"You always were stubborn," he says, softer now.
"It's called persistence."
"I know." Even quieter.
Something in his tone makes my hand pause. Regret? I don't want to think about it.
Eighteenth try. The spark catches. Smoke rises. I hold my breath and blow gently.
A tiny flame appears.
"Oh my God. Devon, look!"
He leans in, just as excited. "Don't move! I'll get more wood!"
We add branches carefully. The fire grows. When it's stable, we both stand at once.
Devon raises his hand.
I raise mine without thinking.
Our palms meet.
Clap.
Everything stops.
Electricity shoots from my fingertips to my heart. We both freeze. This gesture is too familiar. Five years ago on set, every time we nailed a scene, we'd celebrate like this. Our thing.
Devon pulls his hand back first, clearing his throat.
I drop mine fast, fixing my hair again.
"Good job," he says, voice rough.
"You too." I can't look at him.
Devon stares at the ocean. "We need protein. Fish."
He starts making a spear from branches, vines, and a sharpened stick.
Then he pulls off his shirt.
The movement is casual but my eyes follow. Sun catches his muscles. Sweat makes his skin shine. He's in even better shape than five years ago.
He notices me staring and grins. "Like what you see?"
I look away, rolling my eyes. "In your dreams, Hayes."
He walks toward the water, glancing back. "Been there, done that."
My face burns. Five years and he's still this good at flirting.
Devon wades in with his spear. He watches under the surface, waiting. First strike, miss. The fish are too fast. Second, miss. Third, still nothing. Fifth, the spear breaks.
I sit on the beach, arms around my knees, watching. I can't go in. I'm scared of water. Can't swim. But watching him try stirs something in my chest.
After the seventh fail, Devon walks back to shore, breathing hard.
"Maybe we just eat coconuts for a week."
I hand him coconut water. "Hydrate. Try again."
He takes it, looking at me. "You got a lot of faith in me."
The words slip out. "I've seen you do harder things."
I regret it instantly. That reveals I've been following his career.
His eyebrow goes up. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"I mean, your movies. The stunts. Whatever. I read about them sometimes."
He leans closer. "You read about me?"
I push him away. "Don't flatter yourself. Your movies are everywhere. Hard to miss."
He laughs, satisfied. "Right. Everywhere."
Comments:
"DEVON SHIRTLESS ALERT 🚨"
"Aria LOOKED. I saw it."
"'Been there done that' SIR???"
"She reads about him 😭😭😭"
Night falls. Stars come out. Our fire crackles. We sit eating roasted coconut and berries I checked are safe.
Silence stretches. Not uncomfortable. Almost peaceful.
Devon breaks it, staring at the flames. "Remember that rain scene on set?"
I pause. "Which one? We had like five."
He smiles. "The one where we kept messing up because we couldn't stop laughing."
That scene. Fake rain. The director called cut a dozen times.
"Because you kept slipping on the fake puddles."
"And you laughed so hard you snorted."
"I did NOT."
"You totally did. The whole crew heard. The sound guy even recorded it."
I laugh despite myself. "Okay, maybe a little. That was a good day."
"Yeah." His voice softens. "It was."
Pause.
"We had a lot of good days."
"We did." I watch the flames.
Silence again. Different this time. Full of things we're not saying.
We really did have so many good days. I thought we'd always be together. Until that offer. Until that choice.
She remembers. She remembers everything, just like I do. Devon's thoughts echo.
"We should sleep," I say. "Tomorrow we need more food."
He nods. "Yeah."
We lie down in the shelter. Closer than last night. I can hear him breathing. The fire glows through gaps in the palm leaves.
Today was exhausting. But also too comfortable. Making fire together, finding food together, remembering. It feels strange and familiar at once.
"Aria?" Devon's voice cuts through darkness.
My heart jumps. "Yeah?"
He pauses. "I'm glad it's you."
I stop breathing. "What?"
"Out here. If I had to be stuck with someone on a deserted island, I'm glad it's you."
My heart skips. What does that mean?
"Don't get sentimental on me, Hayes," I say, trying to sound steady. "It's only day two."
He laughs softly. "Noted."
No more sounds. But we both know neither of us is sleeping. I stare up. His words loop in my mind. I'm glad it's you.
Online:
"HE'S GLAD IT'S HER 😭"
"The way she deflected but you KNOW she felt it"
"They're falling again and they don't even realize"
"Five more days... this is gonna destroy me"
Why me? After five years, he should hate me. I chose my career. I left. I hurt him. But he's glad it's me. What does that mean?
Outside, waves keep their rhythm. The fire dims. Two people lie awake, thinking about each other. The distance is small. The gap in their hearts seems to be closing.
Five more days.
What happens next?
