Page 42 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

Shit. How do I answer this? I like Willa, I do. And we shared a moment in the Pour Decisions bathroom earlier this year. It was a weird moment, but a shared moment, nonetheless. Still, that doesn’t mean I can blab to her about the nothing that I wish was something that is happening between me and Milo. Her brother.

“It’s…it’s not what you think.” There. That’s a safe answer.

Willa’s face falls, her smile slipping. “But, could it be what I hope?”

Err…what?

Willa hopes that…nope, this is my mind playing a trick on me. Regardless, she knows something is up. Knows that he and I are here together. And I can’t tell her the truth. So I go with the first thing I can think of.

“Would you believe he lost a bet?”

“Nope. Sassy-pants over there doesn’t make bets unless he knows he’s gonna win. It’s really annoying.”

The whistle blows, and a series of loud grunts fills the air as all fourteen men grab hold of that rope and pull. My eyes immediately fly to Milo, his face contorted as he holds on, using all his strength to try and yank the Nobles over the literal line drawn in the sand. If I thought he was beautiful before, seeing him like this, his biceps and forearms flexed, showing off muscles that are very well defined, shimmering in the sun, then I’ve found a whole new level of fantasy. Sweet merciful Lord, does watching him do this make my mouth water. And ache to have him handle me.

In whatever way he wants.

“Harder, boys!” Willa shouts, breaking my reverie. “Pull!”

My heart leaps with anticipation, getting way too invested in the back and forth of the flag. In wanting Milo to win. The crowd around us continues to shout, some with generic support, while others, like Willa, have clearly picked a side. And I can’t blame them, because it’s exciting. There’s a reason tug-o-war will have a crowd the entire day, some folks doing nothing but camping out here to watch as different families take each other on. None of those battles will be as competitive as this one, the opening battle of the day.

More grunts and groans escape from the guys, their efforts starting to take a toll on them. I have no idea how long they’ve been doing this—can't be more than a few minutes—but each one is still giving it their all. And that flag has barely moved from its original spot.

That is, until Landon lets go. It’s not a full release of the rope. Nothing more than an almost imperceptible readjustment of his grip. But it’s enough.

Hux lets out a loud, deep roar, almost a battle cry. One from deep down inside, that all the others on the Hayes side seem to understand. A secret code.

In a swift move, one that I would have thought coordinated if I hadn’t been watching this whole thing, they heave together, as one. It’s enough to shock the Nobles and set them off-balance. A couple more good pulls and they go flying, and the flag moves over the line.

“Yes!” Willa shouts, jumping up and down.

“Oh no,” Bronwyn sighs.

“Did I miss it? Shit,” Kenzie exclaims, sliding in behind Willa and me. “If anyone asks, I was here the whole time, ’kay?”

“Secret’s safe with us,” Mell tells her, earning a mouthed thank you in return.

“Time to kiss your victor!”

Willa grabs my hands, rushing us toward her family. They're in the middle of their own celebration mixed with being good sports and shaking hands with the Nobles.

“It’s not like that,” I tell her as we enter the fray.

Willa drops my hand, squealing as she leaps into Nash’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him hard. My heart squeezes, a wedge of jealousy sliding in. I want that. The elation that comes with being excited for someone you love, the ability to celebrate with them so publicly.

“Bren!”

I spin around, a smiling Milo three feet from me, removing his gloves and shoving them in his back pocket. My insides do somersaults, wishing that I could mimic Willa and leap into his arms. I can’t though. Because it’s not like that.

“We won!” he exclaims, arms wide in celebration.

Or at least, I think it’s celebration. But then he wraps them around me in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground, twirling me. I hug him back, holding on for dear life as my legs spin outwards. Despite trying my best to keep my composure, I can’t. A giggle escapes, like the effervescence when a cork is popped.

A quick, chaste kiss to the cheek, then Milo sets me back on my feet, his gaze meeting mine, one side of his mouth quirked upward. I smile back, wishing I knew something cool or fun to say, but my mind is blank.

“Then make it that way.” Willa winks, appearing next to us, punching Milo softly in the shoulder.

He looks between her and me, confusion taking over. Nash doesn’t seem fazed though, pulling her in for another kiss, the two of them getting lost in each other.