Chapter 1
Mia
The lake had always belonged to us.
Not literally, obviously. Greyson’s family owned the house sitting behind us, along with enough land surrounding it that I used to joke they probably owned half the damn county, but the lake itself wasn’t theirs.
Still, it felt like ours.
It had when we were kids running barefoot down the dock. It had when I was fourteen and Greyson taught me how to drive the boat even though I nearly put us into the reeds. It had every summer after that, when somehow, no matter how many people were at the house or how many friends came and went, we always ended up down here alone.
Tonight was different.
Tomorrow, I was leaving.
And three days after that, Greyson was leaving too.
I sat at the end of the dock with my shoes beside me and my feet dangling over the edge, staring at the black water while I tried very hard not to think about either of those things.
Behind me, the boards creaked.
I didn’t turn around.
I already knew.
Greyson: “You disappeared.”
I smiled despite myself.
Mia: “I walked approximately two hundred feet from your house.”
Greyson: “Without telling me.”
Mia: “I didn’t realize I needed permission.”
Greyson: “You don’t.”
His voice came closer.
Greyson: “You could’ve told me, though.”
That was Greyson.
He could make you could’ve told me sound like I’ve been looking everywhere for you and I’m pissed that I had to.
I finally glanced over my shoulder.
That was a mistake.
Greyson Alexander had always been unfairly attractive, but somewhere in the last year he’d gone from the boy I’d grown up with to a man who made women openly stare at him.
Tonight, he wore gray sweatpants and an old black T-shirt, his dark hair still messy from where he’d showered after training. He had a beer in one hand and another in the other, and when he caught me looking, one corner of his mouth lifted.
God, I hated that smile.
Mostly because I loved it.
He held one bottle toward me.
Greyson: “Peace offering.”
I took it.
Mia: “For what?”
Greyson: “Being an asshole earlier.”
I laughed softly.
Mia: “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
He gave me a look before lowering himself beside me.
His shoulder immediately pressed against mine.
Neither of us moved away.
Greyson: “At dinner.”
Mia: “Oh. When you interrogated Tyler about his intentions with me like you’re my eighty-year-old father?”
Greyson: “I asked him one question.”
I turned toward him.
Mia: “You asked him where he was staying tonight.”
Greyson: “Valid question.”
Mia: “Then you asked if he was planning on drinking.”
Greyson: “Also valid.”
Mia: “Then you told him the guest rooms were already taken.”
Greyson took a drink of his beer.
Greyson: “They are.”
Mia: “There are six guest rooms in that house.”
Greyson: “Very popular weekend.”
I stared at him.
He stared straight ahead.
I bumped my shoulder against his.
Mia: “You’re ridiculous.”
Greyson: “And Tyler went home, so apparently I’m effective.”
There it was.
I should’ve been annoyed.
Instead, warmth curled through my stomach because I knew exactly why Greyson hadn’t wanted Tyler staying.
Greyson had never liked boys around me.
Not when we were twelve.
Not when we were sixteen.
Definitely not now.
The problem was that he wasn’t allowed to care anymore.
Not like that.
Neither of us was.
Tomorrow I was leaving for college, and Greyson’s entire life was about to explode into something neither of us could really comprehend yet. He had been drafted into the NFL, and even though we’d known for months that it was coming, knowing hadn’t made it feel real.
Not until tonight.
I looked back toward the water.
Mia: “Are you scared?”
The teasing disappeared from his face.
Greyson was quiet for a moment.
Greyson: “About football?”
Mia: “About everything.”
His knee shifted against mine.
Greyson: “Are you?”
I hated when he did that.
Mia: “I asked you first.”
Greyson: “Yeah.”
I looked at him again because I hadn’t expected that.
Greyson didn’t admit fear.
He’d played football in front of seventy thousand screaming people without blinking. He’d sat through interviews where grown men dissected every mistake he’d ever made. He’d signed a contract worth more money than either of us could reasonably understand and acted like someone had handed him a grocery receipt.
But right now, staring across the lake we’d grown up on, he looked almost as unsettled as I felt.
Mia: “Really?”
Greyson: “Really.”
Mia: “What part?”
He rolled the bottle slowly between his palms.
For several seconds, I thought he wasn’t going to answer.
Then his eyes found mine.
Greyson: “You.”
My heart stumbled.
I tried to laugh.
It came out weak.
Mia: “I’m not particularly terrifying.”
Greyson: “That’s not what I mean.”
I knew that.
Of course I knew that.
The air between us had been strange all night. Maybe all week. Maybe much longer than that if I was being honest with myself.
Greyson leaned forward, resting his forearms against his thighs.
Greyson: “You’re going to be six hours away.”
Mia: “You’re going to be farther.”
Greyson: “That’s different.”
Mia: “How?”
He looked at me like the answer should have been obvious.
Greyson: “Because I’m not worried about me.”
I swallowed.
Mia: “What exactly are you worried is going to happen to me?”
Greyson: “Nothing.”
Mia: “Grey.”
Greyson: “Everything.”
That shut me up.
His jaw tightened as he stared at the water again.
Greyson: “You’re going to get there and make friends. You’re going to have classes and parties and some shitty little coffee place you’ll become obsessed with. Some guy is going to see you walking across campus and decide he wants you.”
Something tightened painfully inside my chest.
Mia: “And?”
Greyson looked at me.
Greyson: “And I fucking hate that.”
There wasn’t anything playful about his expression anymore.
I stopped breathing normally.
Mia: “You don’t get to hate that.”
Greyson: “I know.”
His answer came too quickly.
That hurt worse.
I looked down at my hands.
Mia: “You’re going to have women throwing themselves at you.”
He didn’t answer.
Mia: “Actually, they already do.”
Still nothing.
