Page 12 of Like First Love, Again

“What is that they say about giving an inch?” Tori’s full lips twitched into a ghost of a smile until she made herself serious again.

The micro-movement sent a wave of something warm rippling through Mia’s chest. It was a nudge coaxing her to take just a little more.

“That inches are not nearly as fun as miles?” Mia left her hand for Tori to take.

Tori stared at Mia’s open palm like she was debating jumping off a bridge. Body tense with anticipation, Mia dropped her hand in the water when it was obvious Tori wasn’t going any further.

“This is as much as you’re getting. Take it or leave it.” Tori leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. “Don’t splash me,” she warned.

She gripped the ledge and hauled herself up, wishing it had looked smoother before swinging around to sit next to Tori. The sun seared her exposed back, and every imperfection was on display as she sat there dripping, a puddle forming beneath her.

But Tori wasn’t looking at her body—she was looking at Mia’s face. Lookingintoher in a way that forced Mia to be still. To stop and exist in the moment while Tori’s new persona wavered.

With her thumb, Tori found the scar on Mia’s eyebrow. The touch was so gentle, so saturated with love Mia hadn’t felt in solong. Without trying, Tori had found a frayed edge and tugged. Mia’s unraveling was effortless.

The sob that erupted without warning from the center of her chest was a hard punch to her lungs. The cry made it impossible to breathe, but she was powerless to control it. Mia’s grief was a dam erupting into dust. It was unstoppable as it poured out of her in endless waves. She didn’t cry as much as she wailed.

“I’ve got you,” Tori whispered, arms holding Mia so tight she didn’t have room to inhale. It wasn’t nearly tight enough.

Tori let her cry without asking her to give voice to feelings she was only just untangling. Without pushing her to make sense of anything. she just held Mia’s sore body until the sobs slowed, until the storm inside her burned up in the atmosphere. Unburdening herself without having to answer questions was what she needed.

Mia’s breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, her face buried against Tori’s neck, where the unforgettable scent of her skin made Mia feel at home. It was grounding and she was starving for it. She didn’t loosen her grip, even when her arms ached from holding on so tight.

“This is so embarrassing,” Mia managed through the throbbing burn in her raw throat. She didn’t pull away from Tori’s embrace, and Tori didn’t move either. “I’m a mess?—”

“You’re human,” Tori replied.

The rough edges of her sadness smoothed while she steadied herself. Mia leaned back and let Tori dry her tears. All at once, she realized she wasn’t just home with Tori. She was safe.

“You didn’t have to pretend to cry so hard,” Tori joked to give Mia an easy out. “You could’ve just asked me to get in the pool.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” Mia confessed before the moment slipped away. Before Tori could withdraw again.

Tori’s glistening eyes—red from her own emotion—studied every inch of Mia’s face. Tori wasn’t ready to say it back, ormaybe she didn’t feel the same, but Mia didn’t want her to pull away.

“Who else was I going to con to get in the water with me?” Mia joked because she didn’t want to push too far. They had so much awkward ground to cover and every second she had Tori back was a win.

Tori’s shoulders relaxed, and she gently released Mia from her hold. “You know what they say about suckers…”

Mia smiled, nose stuffy and body exhausted. “That they’ll hang out until someone pays them with pizza before they get back to their big, important commercial real estate job?”

Tori hesitated before she said, “Yeah.” She flashed her a single dimple. “Pretty sure that’s how it goes.”

The urge to curl up in her bed and cry because everything was spinning out of control eased in Tori’s presence. Mia dropped into the water, submerging herself completely to wash her face. With her wet hair slicked back, she sat on the ledge next to Tori again. This time, she was just far enough to avoid wetting Tori’s clothes while she dried quickly in the baking sun.

When she’d gathered herself, she met Tori’s worried gaze. “I promise not to burst into tears every time I’m within a foot of you,” she joked to relieve the humiliation that was replacing the pain.

“There’s no shame in crying,” Tori said in a voice so sincere Mia almost believed her.

“Oh, yeah.” She chuckled. “When’s the last time you burst into tears?” She couldn’t imagine the extremely put-together version of Tori had ever experienced a moment of embarrassment.

“Alone in the shower or in front of someone else?” She smiled, small and quick, as if to say,we all do it. “Three years ago, I fumbled a prospective client so hard, I was sure I was going to get fired.”

Dubious, Mia furrowed her brow. “You don’t have to pretend to be a hot mess on my pathetic account.”

“You’re not pathetic, and you don’t have to hide your feelings, Mia.” Tori’s expression was gentle and her words featherlight. “Losing your mom…” She looked away, and when she looked back at Mia, her eyes were heavy with unshed tears again. “It’s just… I’m here for you, okay? This is impossible, and you don’t have to pretend otherwise.”

Mia’s throat contracted so tight, it was hard to speak. But the truth slipped right out anyway. “I don’t know how to do this.” She looked around, dizzy with the enormity of her surroundings. “Any of it.”

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