Page 54 of Until We Come Home

The bitter irony of dragging the one guy I can’t stand out of the lake—only for it to drive him right back into Mia’s arms—isn’t lost on me. I push up off the wood and step back to let her comfort him.

I thought maybe something was happening between us. The night at the studio, I swear she felt it too, and the tension since then has been hard to ignore, the way we’ve been circling each other all week, how flustered and off balance she’s been around me.

She made her feelings pretty clear by inviting Derek out here in the first place, and if a platonic friendship is all she wants from me, I'll take it. Having Mia as a friend is better than not having her at all.

I just wish she’d pick literally anyone else. Someone who actually appreciates what he’s got, who looks at her like she's everything. Not Derek and his casual, noncommittal bullshit. She keeps telling herself he’s good for her, but his half-hearted routine makes my blood boil—especially when I know he’s got some other girl waiting back in LA.

I stand there dripping while she tends to him, the rest of the family gathered around, Derek starting to shake it off and insisting he’s fine, and before long the mood on the dock eases back into the lazy hum of the afternoon.

I sit back on the edge of the dock under the dark night sky, my back resting against the wooden post while I turn a small metal flask over in my hands. Everyone else drifted off toward their cabins over the last hour, leaving me alone out here in the quiet to work through the lingering frustration from earlier and shake off the foul mood I’ve been carrying all afternoon.

Footsteps echo along the wooden planks behind me, and I turn my head to see Mia coming down the path toward the water, still wearing her denim shorts with an oversized sweater pulled on against the cool night breeze blowing off the lake. Her hair is down, wavy and loose and a little wild from the day in the sun and the water.

“Hey,” she says, taking a seat beside me on the worn wood. “I stopped by your cabin a minute ago, but it was empty. Needing some peace and quiet?”

“You know how I get,” I tell her, taking a drink before passing the flask her way, which she takes without hesitation, tipping it back for a quick swallow.

“I do,” she says, coughing a bit at the whiskey. “Do you want to be alone? Your alone time, recharge the batteries, all that?”

I smile. “Nah. You don’t really count as someone I need to recharge from.”

She smiles at me and passes the flask back, and we look out at the water together, the only sounds the lake lapping at the dock and the occasional owl somewhere back in the trees. I breathe it in slow, like I could hold onto this, like there’s no Derek asleep in a cabin fifty yards behind us, no September coming. Just me and Mia, and the water, and nowhere else either of us needs to be.

A sudden, heavy splash breaks the quiet out past the end of the dock, sending a ripple across the glassy, ink-black surface of the lake.

“Ooh, what was that?” She pushes up off the wood, stepping closer to the edge to peer out into the shadows. “A fish? That had to be a huge fish.”

I stand up beside her, my shoulder brushing against her arm as I scan the water, catching a tiny shape cutting a silent line through the moonlight further out.

“Looks like an otter over there,” I say, pointing toward the ripple. “A few creeks feed into this lake, so it makes sense.”

“Oh, how cute! I love otters. My favorite mug back home has a little cartoon one on it.” She tracks it for another second before wrapping her arms around her waist, a faint shiver running through her. “Though as adorable as he is, deep water at night creeps me out. Anything could be lurking down there.”

I smile at that and turn back toward the dark lake. She’s not wrong. It’s one thing in the afternoon sun, but pitch-black water isn’t really my style either.

“Yeah, I’m with you on that,” I admit. “Feels like the start of a bad horror movie. You couldn’t pay me to jump in right now.”

She laughs. “Okay, but what if you had to pull someone out? Search and rescue style. We all know you’d leap right in during the day, but what about tonight?”

“Obviously I’d go in,” I say. “I just wouldn’t be happy about it. Give me a burning building any day.”

“You’d prefer a burning house over a dark lake?”

“At least in a fire, I can see what’s trying to kill me.”

She shakes her head at me, and a quiet settles between us as we stand shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the valley. The otter splashes somewhere off in the dark, the moon casting a long silver path across the surface.

“Speaking of pulling people out of the water,” she says, her voice dropping, taking on a careful edge. “I never actually said thank you. For earlier. For Derek. That was terrifying, how fast things went sideways, but thank God you were out there.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” I say, taking another sip of whiskey.

“I want to, though.” Her hazel eyes stay fixed on the dark horizon, avoiding mine. “He was really shaken up and embarrassed about making a scene. I know Derek isn’t your favorite person, and you wouldn’t choose to hang out with him on your own time. But you didn’t make him feel small or anything. I really appreciate that, Mateo.”

“Just doing the job,” I say, wishing like hell we could talk about literally anything else tonight.

“Well, I’m just glad I have a firefighter for a best friend,” she says, letting out a small, nervous chuckle. “Things could have been much worse if you weren’t there. And you really made him feel welcome today, too. I noticed. I thought the relay was actually kind of fun before everything happened, didn’t you? All of us hanging out together?”

“Yeah, a total blast.” I take another long pull from the flask.