"Haze," Warren says, "you look weird dressed in a bridesmaid dress."

Everyone looks at Hazel. She's wearing a navy-blue micro-pleated mesh halter dress that reaches down to the floor in cascading layers of fabric. It looks absolutely stunning on her, but Warren actually has a point. After seeing a glimpse of her in her wedding dress, the dark colour and different style is an odd sight.

"It makes sense," Julia inputs, running a hand over the dress she's wearing. While the colour is identical to the one Hazel is wearing, the style is different. It's shorter, stopping mid-calf, and it's made of chiffon that's intertwined with silver sparkles. The neckline is crisscrossed with a lattice-like trim, giving modern detail to a classic silhouette.

"Can you repeat that, Julia?" Warren asks. "East won't believe his ears when I tell him you actually agreed with me."

While the group laughs, I shake my head and glance at myself in the mirror. My dress is the one that differentiates the most from the others, and it makes me feel like a goddess. It's short – resting just above my knees – and the one-shoulder and cascading side gather both cast a magical illusion around my figure, making the dress look tight, but not too tight. I adore the dress, and every five minutes I keep silently wishing that this will be the one Hazel decides on. Yes, the other dresses are beautiful, but this one is stunning – and I rarely take pleasure in swooning over a dress.

Regarding swooning...I also can't stop myself from sneaking glances at Warren. All the men are dressed in the same suit. He, however, pulls it off best. It's a light beige suit, tied together with a navy-blue dress shirt and a coral-coloured tie, matching the nautical theme perfectly.

Looking away from the mirror, I glance over my shoulder at him. I know I need to listen to the logical side of my mind and stop looking at him or else I'm going to suffer the consequences of him catching me. So that's exactly what I begin to do. But just as I'm beginning to turn away, he looks in my direction and our eyes connect.

My heart lurches in my chest. The look in his eyes is unfathomable, saturated with hunger and lust and...and something I can't quite read.

The idea of him wanting me terrifies me. If that's what he's thinking, anyway. There's a chance I might be assessing this situation wrongly.

With that thought, I turn back to the mirror and start inspecting the beige high heels I'm wearing. My mind begins to obsess over how well they match Warren's suit, and I tell it to shut up.

I'd normally figure out this situation and resolve it, but I can't handle the different outcomes. As far as I know, Warren still thinks I hate him, which is a ridiculous assumption on his part. How could I still hate him after spending so much time with him? It's like Hazel told me: There's a connection between us whether I like it or not. And I have to admit, I'm liking it more than I hate it.

"You look sexy."

I jerk away from my thoughts and turn around, coming face-to-chest with Warren. I look up and my eyes widen the slightest bit when the strong scent of smoky sandalwood fills my nose. The Atlantic-blue of his eyes almost knocks me off my heels.

I swallow thickly, trying to find my voice. "You, um, look handsome," I reply.

"Do you always do that?" he smiles, leaning against the mirror.

"Do what?"

"Try to counter a compliment by complimenting the person that originally complimented you?"

My cheeks turn pink. I nudge my shoulder against him to play casual. "You're very observant, aren't you?"

"Only with the people that matter to me."

My stomach flips. "So, which dress do you think the girls and I should go with?"

"Whichever is easiest to take off," he smirks.

"Warren!" I exclaim, slapping his arm. "Don't be gross."

His smirk deepens. "Calm down, Scotia. I'm only joking around in my typical fashion."

"Obviously," I reply, rolling my eyes.

Just when I think Warren's about to clarify which dress he prefers, Hazel interrupts. "Okay, I'm having trouble deciding which dress the bridesmaids should wear. How does everyone feel about a vote?"

I look at Hazel and smile. It's nice to see her so excited about the wedding. Just like it's nice to know that I've had a hand in helping her make it happen. "I think that sounds great," I say.

Julia nods and the boys mutter their agreements.

For the next five minutes, we talk about the pros and cons of each dress. As usual, Warren makes inappropriate jokes and Hazel reprimands him for doing so. Everyone else laughs because, I will admit, his jokes are a little funny. All I do is stare at him, shaking my head with a ghost of a smile on my lips.

Eventually, Greyson cuts to the point. "I think the bridesmaids should wear the dress Nova's wearing. It's simple enough that it won't outdo Hazel's wedding dress."

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from cheering. Thank you, Greyson!

Warren, who's hardly taken his eyes off me this whole time, nods in agreement. "I second that. What about you, Ian?"

I'm not sure if Ian is actually looking at the dresses or our bodies, but he also agrees. "Yeah, man. Nova's dress is good."

"I like it, too," Levi nods.

"Well, it definitely beats the thing I'm wearing," Julia says. "Let's find my size and buy them." She pauses and looks at Hazel. "If you're good with it, that is."

Hazel laughs. "As much as I like the others, Nova's is the best. I think it was that one from the beginning. We should get a move on if we don't want to be late for dinner."

Although no one asks my opinion about the dress decision, I'm far from caring. I'm so happy Hazel agreed to this dress that I could start jumping up and down.

By the time we have Julia's size and have bought the dresses and suits, we have half an hour to make it home for dinner. We split off into groups – Ian and Levi head for the silver truck; Hazel, Greyson, and Julia go to the Jeep; and Warren and I opt for the rental vehicle we still possess.

We're both sitting in the vehicle when Warren says, "Someone's happy about the dress."

"I wanted it the moment I saw it," I admit. "But I didn't want to say anything in case Hazel wanted a different one."

He smiles and softly shakes his head. "Do you ever stop to think about what you want instead of considering other people? It doesn't make you a bad person if you do that sometimes."

"I know," I lie.

There's a reason why I do that. Carter's death caught me so off-guard that I started to worry about disappointing other people or upsetting them or putting myself first. I thought it would offend them in some way and then drive them to make the same decision he made. I still believe it. And while I'm not a people-pleaser, I do care about what happens to others even if it means preventing myself from getting what I want or what I deserve.

And sometimes, the downsides are worth it.

* * *

"So, are we doing anything tomorrow?" I ask Hazel after dinner.

"I've asked you and Julia to do so much in the past two weeks – I think you could both use a break. We'll bury the wedding for a few days. So, you should go out and have some fun. Explore Nova Scotia, Nova." She winks at me.

I roll my eyes. "Great to know you're in on your brother's irking jokes."

"Whatever do you mean, Scotia?" she laughs. She then shakes her head. "I want to thank you, Nova," she continues, gesturing to the neatly organized binders and magazines. "I don't know what I'd do without you – you're a total saviour."

"Technically," I counter, "you should be thanking your brother for dragging me into this. Don't tell him, but I'm actually happy he chose me to play the part. Your family is wonderful."

"Oh, God," she laughs. "My little brother would hold that against me for the rest of my life. But I suppose you're right." For some reason, in the midst of her pause, Hazel pulls me into a hug. "I'm going to miss you when this is all over."

Her words strike me hard.

I've been having so much fun with the Ashfords that I've almost forgotten where Warren and I stand in reality. The very thought saddens me. I don't want to leave this life and these people I've met behind. Yes, I'll still have Warren, East, and Julia when we return to Vancouver, but not being able to see the rest of them? It makes my heart hurt.

"We could keep in touch," I say.

The words that leave my mouth are a mixture of lie and truth. On one end, staying in touch would be a simple, right thing to do. On the other end, depending on what happens after summer ends, the shores between Warren and I may become rocky, making it too awkward to stay in touch.

Damn it.

I'm suddenly stressed out. Scared. In the beginning, I wanted this summer to end as soon as possible. But now? Now, I want it to draw out as long as possible.

Hazel pulls away, yawning. "Well, I'm exhausted from today. I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Sorry – I would love to stay up and have a glass of wine with you."

"Understandable," I shrug. "Night, Hazel."

"Night, Nova!"

Once the door is closed behind her, I head upstairs and decide that I might as well get ready for bed. An early night sounds appealing, anyway.

When I enter the bedroom, Warren is lying on the bed and reading a book. It's an extremely odd sight because I've never seen him read a book for fun.

"Let's do something tomorrow," I say as I rifle through the closet for some pyjamas.

Behind me, I hear the mattress springs creak beneath the shifting of his weight. "You want to do something with me?" he asks.

After finding the desired attire, I sit down beside him. "You know Halifax better than I do. Maybe...maybe we could do some hiking and geocaching again."

"Counter offer," he says, turning to face me. "Let's have a relaxing day tomorrow. Crystal Crescent Beach Provincial Park is beautiful: white-sand beaches, ocean air, lots of sun, and some easy walks. We could spend the day there, and then go hiking on Wednesday. And maybe dinner on Thursday, together?"

Without a second thought, I nod in agreement. "That would be fantastic."

"Yeah," he teases. "You could also tan a bit so you stop looking like a ghost."

I playfully punch him in the shoulder. "You're lucky you're teasing me, Warren, or else I would kick your butt. That comment aside, I could use a day of relaxation."

Something in my mind clicks. Together? Did he just ask me out on a date?

I clear my throat, looking at him. "Together?"

"Can you relax?" Warren teases, completely ignoring my question. I don't fail to see the light blush that creeps across his prominent cheeks.

"Of course, I can," I reply, tugging a loose strand of his hair. "By the way, you need to get a haircut before the wedding. Your hair is getting too long."

He mocks a pout. "But I was aiming for the man-bun."

I snort. "If you ever grow your hair that long, I will pin you down and shave it all off myself."

"Not a fan?" he asks, leaning in.

"Not the slightest bit," I reply, breathing in the smell of spearmint toothpaste from his hot breath.

"Y'know," Warren says huskily. He reaches out and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. "I know a few ways I could help you relax."

The panic instantly sets in, and before he can cross a line, I jump up and make a beeline for the bathroom. I slam the door behind me and sit down on the cold tile, trying to ignore the muffled sigh of frustration from the other side.

I close my eyes and take several deep breaths, struggling to calm myself. My heart is beating erratically. My chest is rising and falling at a pace that concerns me.

It's not his actions that terrify me – they're typical for his character. It's my reactions, the way he makes me feel. I act so out of character when I'm around him that I'm beginning to question my own beliefs.

In the back of my mind, I hear Hazel's words from Canada day replay.

What if I do deserve to find another man? One that makes me happy? What if I deserve to keep living my life and move on, but not forget?

I think back to the night at the lake. The kiss that happened between us wasn't simply nothing. It was the start of something. Something that's broadened our relationship and allowed us to bond after all this time. Something that's made me want to freeze time and never let summer fade to fall.

What if Warren is that guy?

I mentally groan.

What is he doing to me?