Page 59 of Making It Up
“Hi,” I return.
At least, I think it was Sloan. Fuck it could have been literally any other female on the planet. I don’t even look. I barely register her voice.
I’m staring at Mia.
She’s stopped in front of me on the porch.
My nieces have run past her. Sloan—or whoever—has walked past and into the house.
Now we’re just standing here, on the porch, the two of us, staring at each other.
“Hi,” Mia says.
“You let someone else take you for your first ride.”
Her cheeks get even pinker than they were from the adrenaline and wind. She tucks a strand of tousled hair behind her ear. “Your nieces are irresistible.”
They are. I can’t really blame her.
Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly.
I’ve been replaying our kiss from Friday night over and over. It was, hands down, the best kiss of my life and that is a big problem.
But I want another.
“I guess I don’t need to show up at the party tomorrow night now,” I say.
Instead of looking disappointed or saying anything—or begging me to come tomorrow night—she gives me a half smile and says, “I guess I’ll have to find someone else to help me set up my tent.”
Then she turns on her heel and sashays into my mother’s house.
I stare after her.
Tent?
There’s going to be a tent?
Is that a euphemism for something else?
But I don’t think it is. I think Mia Hansen is going to camp out at the river. Probably for the first time. She probably bought a tent just for this.
And probably has no clue how to set it up.
There is no fucking way anyone else is going near her tent.
Even if it is a euphemism.
And as I follow her into the house, I realize that she knew I was going to show up here tonight.
Just like she knows I’m going to show up tomorrow night.
I sigh.
Should I just accept that I’m wrapped around her little finger now or should I put up a little more resistance?
Like thwart her tent plan tomorrow night?
I grin as I hear her laughing with my nieces as they set the table, and feel the sound and moment reach into my chest and wrap around my heart.
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