Page 34 of Like First Love, Again

“When did you get so good at picking out clothes?” Mia asked, fingers skimming the edge of Tori’s vest. Her touch left a trail of heat along Tori’s skin and brought her back from nearly falling asleep.

Tori’s chuckle was little more than a rumble in her throat. “Things change when we grow up,” she murmured, tempted to close her eyes again and drift away. In her life, she’d never slept more soundly than with Mia.

“There’s something to be said about some things staying the same,” Mia said like she was talking about more than fashion sense.

The breeze turned cooler seconds before it rained. Shielded in the cabana, Tori shook her head. “Who plans a wedding in Miami in August? It’s, like, guaranteed to rain.”

“At least it’s not a hurricane.” Mia fidgeted with the last button on Tori’s vest. “And I think rain is romantic,” she decided after a beat. “Like a clean slate, you know? Like a blessing from some ancient goddess whose name we’ve forgotten.”

If Mia was resurrecting dead religions, she was in an even weirder place than Tori guessed. “Do you want to talk about it?” She ran her open palm over Mia’s lower back in soothing circles.

“I don’t want to sell the house,” Mia confessed like she’d endured hours of grueling torture before giving up her secret.

Tori breathed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. No one takes that long to clear out a house. I’m not sure you don’t have more stuff than when you started.”

Mia laughed, the bright sound joining the rhythmic melody of rain on canvas.

“We can talk about other options when my brain isn’t soaked in booze.” She let her hand roam over Mia’s hip. “But you don’t have to sell it if you don’t want?—”

“I’m not divorced yet,” Mia blurted.

Tori’s eyes snapped open. Instinctively, she let her hand drop away from Mia and land on the cushion. “What?” Her stomach morphed into a cold pang even though it shouldn’t make a difference. Mia being married had no impact on Tori’s life, and yet jealousy and disappointment did a weird jig in her gut anyway. “Are you hoping to reconcile?—”

“No.” Mia sat up like she needed Tori to look into her eyes when she spoke. Like it mattered what Tori thought about her marital status. “It’s just a matter of signing the papers.” In thelow light, Tori couldn’t see the details of Mia’s face, but she felt her gaze burning into her. “Our relationship died long before we called it. It’s very over,” she said like she was begging Tori to believe her.

“Okay, so is it like a financial thing?” Tori sat up, wishing she wasn’t so drunk.

Mia shook her head. “I guess… If I’m forced to look at it… I guess it’s an emotionally depleted and paralyzed by overwhelm thing.”

“And avoiding it is the only way you can cope with the other stuff?” Tori reached over and took Mia’s hand to stop her from picking at her cuticles. When Mia interlaced their fingers, the last of Tori’s defenses melted away.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” Tori ran her thumb gently over Mia’s hand.

“You mean why didn’t I tellyou, the human who has fully figured out life, that my life is an unattractive dumpster fire?” She tipped her head to the side. “Gee, I have no idea.”

Tori shook her head. “Mia, no one has life figured out. If you want to talk?—”

“Actually,” Mia interrupted her, voice soft like the syllables were heavy. “Can I just take a break from processing? Just a tiny one?”

Before Tori could answer, Mia shifted, gripping her wrist and tugging her back down onto the lounger. Tori barely had time to register the movement before Mia was curled against her again, pressing in close like she needed the warmth despite the balmy night, like she neededher.

Somewhere in her rational mind, Tori knew this would hurt later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to indulge in the high even if the hangover kicked her in the teeth tomorrow.

“I just want to feel this with you,” Mia murmured against Tori’s collarbone, her words an incantation putting Tori back into her trance. Putting a willing Tori under her thrall.

Fuck it.Without an ounce of resistance, Tori closed her eyes and listened to Mia’s breathing tangle with the sound of the rain and the crush of the ocean.

Eighteen

Mia spent the day after Daniela’s wedding feeling frozen in place. She’d never been so aware that she was standing on a precipice. One wrong move and she was going to send pebbles tumbling over the edge right before she fell on the jagged rocks below. With a groan at her own melodrama, Mia stepped into the shower.

Since waking up with a killer hangover, Mia had thought of nothing but Tori. She couldn’t eat. Couldn’t hold down water. Couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense that she had a choice to make. That she was tiptoeing on a razor’s edge and she was going to have to step off. Leap.

Working shampoo onto her scalp, Mia tried to make sense of the present. To find clarity in all the chaos in her head. She’d only been in Miami a couple of weeks, and it had been a breathless whirlwind since she landed.

She closed her eyes while she rinsed her hair and acknowledged that the only time the tornado stopped twisting was when she was with Tori. It had always been like that. For as long as she could remember, being with Tori had always broughtan incredible sense of peace. A calm she couldn’t replicate with anything else.

Was that it? Mia laid her heart out for examination, forcing herself to study every imperfect chamber and damaged valve. Objectively, her life was a mess. Divorcing and grief-stricken and lost in so many ways. Tori, though—she was bright and polished and vibrant. Was Mia clinging to her like a drowning victim, too desperate to realize she was pulling her rescuer under the surface too?

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