Page 225 of Worth the Trip

“No.”

“Mean.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Debatable.”

She handed me a water bottle. “Drink.”

“I’ve been drinking.”

“How much?”

“That question invasive.”

“Landon.”

I opened the bottle and took several swallows.

Her expression said correct answer.

“You came across the whole festival to police hydration?”

“You make trips all the time.”

My hand stopped around the bottle.

She saw it, then smoothed the front of my polo where no wrinkle existed.

That little touch almost did more damage than the dress from our first date.

“Come here.”

“I’m already here.”

“Closer.”

“You’re sweaty.”

“And loved.”

Her eyes held mine.

“That wasn’t my concern.”

“Still relevant.”

She stepped into me anyway.

I wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. Players could clown me until graduation. Didn’t give a damn.

“You good?” she asked.

“Now I am.”

“You’re corny.”

“You committed tenderness first. Don’t regulate my response.”