Page 30 of Like First Love, Again

“I was fabulously drunk,” Mia interrupted. “Remind me.”

Stomach soaring, Tori switched lanes. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to compare my statements for accuracy?”

“Confidential informant. Final answer.”

Tori laughed before putting Mia out of her misery. “I’m touring a medical plaza in Key Biscayne.”

“Why?”

The sound of running water followed Mia’s question. Tori imagined her standing at the kitchen sink. Knew exactly what she looked like leaning forward, a light flush on her cheeks and the hair that had escaped her bun dropping over her face.

“Because it’s my job?” Tori raised her brows as if Mia were in the car with her.

“Are you buying or selling it?”

Tori laughed. “Why?”

“I want to learn about your job. Jesus. Is that really so suspicious?” Mia shut the water off. “Will you have time to pick up something to wear to Daniela’s wedding this weekend?”

“I’m sorry. Were those two statements connected?”

“We talked about it last night. How you weren’t going to make me go to the wedding all by myself.” Mia lied so obviously, Tori couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pretty sure I would have remembered that if it happened.” Tori saw a gap between two cars just wide enough to wedge between with only minimal honking in response.

“Oh, come on. Don’t make me go alone.” Mia seamlessly switched to begging.

“You won’t be alone.” Tori stated what they both knew. “You’ve stayed friends with these people all this time?—”

“Yeah, but they’re not you,” Mia replied like that was an explanation in itself. “And I’m going to be the only one without a date.”

“Oh, it’s a date now?” Tori’s heart fluttered up to her throat, but she swallowed it back down. Tori knew Mia wasn’t using the term seriously, but her heart was a slow learner. “I don’t think I’ll have time to take my tux to the cleaners.”

“You own a tuxedo?” Mia gasped. “Shut up. Are you serious?” she added with a burst of excitement.

“I do,” Tori responded without adding that she’d only worn it once when she was in a friend’s wedding party years earlier.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Mia murmured before barreling into her next thought. “Alright, well. Now you don’t have any excuse not to take me. I’m getting my hair?—”

“I don’t need an excuse, Mia.” Tori grinned with her bottom lip between her teeth before she cleared her throat. “I’m a grown ass woman. I can just say I don’t want to go.”

“And when I’m back in Philadelphia and you miss me soooo much, you’re going to remember this moment and wished you’d agreed to go with me to a little wedding?—”

“Oh, Daniela is having alittle wedding?” Tori shook her head without commenting on Mia’s abuela-level guilting skills. “The girl who celebrated turning fifteen by throwing her own concert full of C-List pop stars? Yes, I do remember her being famously low-key.”

“Yup. Just a laid back, beachside wedding.” Mia played along, voice detached and feigning disinterest. “That just happens to be held at a nothing-special, five-star Bal Harbor hotel.”

“Nothing special. Got it.” Tori caught a glimpse of her own forehead in the rearview and decided to ignore how red she was.

“So, you’ll come with me?” Mia’s tone was bare and earnest. “After you’re finished buying and or selling a medical plaza?”

The soft contours of Mia’s voice sent Tori’s stomach into free-fall. With every climb further up the mountain of a bad idea, she was setting herself up for a greater fall. She should say no, but she couldn’t even pretend to consider it. Maybe she was already too high up for another step to matter. If she was plummeting anyway—if she’d hit terminal velocity—what was the point of denying herself what she wanted?

“Maybe,” Tori said, knowing she was hooked.

“I already put your name on our gift,” Mia said, her smile audible. “We got them a badass set of steak knives.”

“What if I had said no?” Tori challenged.

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