Page 55 of Until We Come Home

She throws a sidelong glance my way. “Okay, I know that tone.”

I look down at her. “What are you looking for here, Mia? You know I’ve never liked Derek. I was nice to him today, hell, I saved the guy’s fucking life. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to give.”

“I know you did, but it’d be nice if the obvious disdain wasn’t constantly showing through. He was embarrassed enough as it is. I’m just trying to manage having everyone here tonight—you’re my best friend, and Derek is... well, I’m not entirely sure where we stand. I wasn’t trying to force a bonding moment, I just...”

She waves a hand in frustration and trails off.

“I’ve got zero interest in being his buddy,” I say, looking back out toward the dark water. “The only reason I was civil was for you. The guy is a total waste of your time, and he does nothing to deserve you.”

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Mia glares up at me, anger glittering in her eyes. “Who are you to decide what I deserve? Derek was sweet to you, to me, and to everyone else out here today. I know he’s not your type of person, but you don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

“Trust me, this is me on my best behavior.” I turn to face her completely, my temper rising as she holds my gaze. “I just don’t fucking get it, Mia. You could have literally any guy you wanted—men fall all over themselves for you—and you keep running back to that loser? He’s seeing someone else in LA, and he can’t even swim!”

It’s a dumb, cheap shot, but his lack of basic survival skills has been picking at my nerves all afternoon.

“I knew you’d pull some arrogant line like that!” she hisses, stepping up to me. “Not every man is built to play the big hero who leaps into burning buildings and dark lakes without a second thought for himself! Some people are just normal, and there’s nothing wrong with that!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you’re completely dodging the point,” I say, holding my ground.

“Because calling him a loser was a cheap shot,” she shoots back, narrowing her eyes at me. “And it doesn’t deserve an answer. Besides, I don’t care that he is seeing someone in LA. When we take breaks in our relationship, we both see other people. That’s how I like it.”

“That’s how you like it? Really? Or maybe you’re just terrified of anything real, so you refuse to look at it.” I wince, knowing I went way too far.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She crosses her arms tight over her chest, waiting.

I rub my hand over my face. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” she says, jabbing a finger at my chest. “If you’ve got something to say about my life, spit it out. Don’t hold back on my account!”

“Fine. You claim you’re allergic to commitment, but I don’t buy it,” I tell her, the truth finally breaking loose. “Deep down, I don’t think you even like the dynamic with Derek. You’re just scared of ending up like your parents. You keep him around because he doesn’t challenge you, and he can’t really break your heart, because you don’t let yourself care enough.”

She stares up at me, stunned, her mouth opening slightly. “How dare you.”

“How dare I? What, you think I haven’t been paying attention these last two years?”

“You don’t know everything about me! I don’t owe you an explanation for how I live, and you wouldn’t understand it anyway⁠—”

“Spare me the lecture on your lifestyle,” I tell her, cutting her off. “You act like you love the free-spirit thing. But are we going to pretend that you haven’t been happier teaching those kids at Meridian and settling down in Seattle than you ever were living out of a tour bus? You’re just terrified of staying put, because if you let yourself care about a place or a person, you might lose it.”

“You’re one to talk!” she snaps, taking a step toward me. “You never stay anywhere long enough to let it count. Boston, Dark River, Seattle, some fire camp in the middle of nowhere. The second a place starts to feel like home, you’re packing the duffel. You can’t even stay with your own family for more than a month before you have to run, and then it’s barely a text back.”

“At least I have a level of self-awareness,” I fire back. “At least I fucking own up to the reason why. You’re lying to yourself so hard you actually believe your own excuses.”

“Yeah, right.” There’s real rage behind it now, her voice shaking with it. “You don’t get to lecture me about my life when you’re hiding behind yours. You run into fires for the rush of saving someone, but when it comes to living your own life, you’re a coward. You won’t date because you’re scared to feel anything real again.”

The sting of her words hits me square in the chest, and I catch the flash of instant regret crossing her face. But I know I provoked her, giving back every bit of the edge we've been throwing at each other.

Her chest heaves with quick breaths, and my own breathing is just as ragged. The heat of the argument burns out just as fast as it flared up, leaving us stranded in the quiet night air with nowhere left to run.

Standing close together on the wooden boards, the bitter words fading into the dark, I realize the distance between us has vanished. She’s standing so close I can feel the heat radiating off her skin, her face turned up toward mine. Mia must realize it too, and her eyes dip down to my mouth before rising slowly back to meet my gaze.

For a brief second I think she’s about to lean in and kiss me, or maybe I’m the one reaching for her, the pull so intense I can’t tell where my own thoughts end and hers begin. But a heavy splash echoes out on the water and shatters the spell in an instant.

“Mia,” I say softly, my voice gravelly. “I’m sorry, I was way out of line. I had no right to say those things or⁠—”

She puts up a hand, shaking her head and stepping back. “No, I... I shouldn’t have crossed that boundary either. We both just...”

Her voice trails off, and I take a small step toward her, desperate to fix the damage I just caused, but she’s already turning toward the path.