Her heart, my regret.

Every summer, I see her.

Elizabeth Grant, the cigarette smoking, sharp-tongued, impossibly beautiful girl across the lake. The girl I've spent years loving in silence, pretending I don't feel the way I do. She's mean, untouchable, and so heartbreakingly beautiful it makes me ache.

We've never been friends. We've never been lovers. But every summer, we dance around each other like we don't know how this story ends.

Because I always leave. And she never asks me to stay.

But this summer feels different. The glances last longer. The silence between us hums with something electric. She looks at me like she's daring me to cross the line we've drawn between us for years.

And God help me-I think I might.

Because I don't just love Elizabeth Grant. I want her, in a way that will ruin me.