Page 62 of Save Your Breath

It didn’t matter what she wore, didn’t matter if she had on a full face of makeup or had just washed it clean. Mia was the kind of breathtaking that actually lived up to the namesake. She could steal your breath away — literally — and all with just a flash of her smile and that little dimple on her left cheek.

Tonight, she was a vision of warm colors that matched the cover of her album. The golden tones were set ablaze when combined with the natural tan shade of her skin, her eyes an even more striking blue than usual.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but for some reason, she seemed… off. Unlike when I’d ridden next to her on the way to the Daisy Kent show, when I’d known she didn’t have an ounce of nerves about the performance, I couldn’t say the same tonight.

Shelookedthe same, sure — poised, confident.

But she was coiled tight, her breath a little shallow, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

I wondered if anyone else could see it but me.

“Ava, I have a question,” Mia said. “Would you maybe want to see my little recording booth that I use here at the house?”

Ava’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding?”

Mia outstretched one hand until Ava took it, and I thought she was going to pass out when she did. “I would never joke about something so sacred. Come on, I’ll even show you where I hide my favorite snacks for when late-night inspiration hits.”

Ava turned to look at Will and Chloe with saucer-sized eyes, bouncing a little on her toes.

“You, too, Mom and Dad,” Mia said, ushering them to join. And though Chloe wasn’ttechnicallyAva’s mom, I didn’t miss the way she lit up with pride and happily followed to that title, Will’s hand finding hers as they went.

“Gotta say it, man — that woman is even spicier in person. Those legs…” Carter whistled with that, one hand on my shoulder as he shook his head in appreciation, watching Mia go.

He turned to look at me like I was going to join in, but I was stone-faced, jaw twitching.

That made Carter go white.

“Right. I’ll just, uh… fuck off over here somewhere,” he said, pointing across the pool deck to where a bar was set up.

Livia rolled her eyes and shook her head before following him and telling me to have fun.

The crew dispersed, and while I wanted to stay glued to Mia, I was happy for some reason that she was spending some time with Will and Chloe. When Giana had told me to bring a group with me, I had laughed. Who the fuck was I supposed to invite? I’d mentioned it to the guys on the golf course as a joke, and then been promptly surprised that every single one of them were down.

They showed up for me at the drop of a hat, no questions asked, no favors to return.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, other than it was a new sensation.

Giana bounced over to me as soon as I was free. She gave me a big hug before I was shaking the hand of her husband — Clay Johnson, star safety for Denver and one hell of a philanthropist. We chatted for a bit before Giana was being pulled away, and then Isabella was there, giving me a quick hug and telling me that my kiss with Mia was already going viral.

She no sooner got the words out before she was rushing off, something about having to talk to the chef, and I was alone.

For two seconds.

“So, is this how it’s going to be? You get a little rich and famous and suddenly there’s no more Christmas in Chicago?”

I turned with a smile at the familiar voice, finding a petite woman who looked so much like Mia beaming up at me. Holly Conaway was as bright and beautiful as ever, and I swept her in for a bear hug, savoring her laugh when I did.

“Hey now, I wasjustthere for the Fourth of July.”

“That was two years ago!”

“You know we have games around Christmas,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, I also know you can fly anywhere you want at any time. And you can make as many excuses as you want to, but until you’re in that house for Christmas morning, I’m not listening.”

I smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled in victory, and I tried to ignore the way my stomach tightened a bit at the real reason I hadn’t been to visit them in years.