We piled in. Or tried to. The truck was not meant for four football players, a pregnant girl, and me with my stress aura taking up half the available oxygen. Dalton slid into the back seat behind Mac, who was driving. Diego shoved himself into the middle of the front seat, that tiny little part every truck seemed to have that they definitely shouldn’t. Maria climbed in next and sat half on Diego, half on thin air.
That left me smashed against the right door in the back, Jackson trapped between me and Dalton, his forearm brushing my arm every time we hit a bump. Perfect. Amazing. Love that for me.
“Move,” Jackson muttered.
“I can’t,” I hissed. “I have no leg room.”
“Maybe try having smaller thighs.”
I glared at him. “Maybe try having less of an ego.”
Dalton cackled so loudly, Mac turned the radio up to drown him out. Maria reached back and squeezed my hand like she was telling me to behave. As if that ever worked. The drive took forever. Trees blurred past in a green smear, the early summer sunlight slanting through the windshield. Diego kept up a steady stream of chatter with Maria, trying not to stare at her too obviously. Dalton was halfway out the window yelling at cows. Mac was muttering under his breath about “damn kids” like he was forty-seven and not twenty. And Jackson just stared out the window, jaw tight, tapping his thumb against his knee like he was trying not to feel the way our arms kept brushing. Every time it happened, the air between us tensed—sharp, bright, almost painful. Like a spark without a flame. Yet.
I hated it. I hated him. I hated how I didn’t hate any of it.
We turned down the long gravel road that led to the Mills’ cabin. I didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t the stunning two-story lake house tucked under towering pines, the water shimmering like glass behind it.
I stopped when I got out the truck, staring. “Holy shit,” I breathed.
Dalton walked past me. “Right? Told you it was awesome.”
“I didn’t know you had…this,” I said.
“Correction,” he said. “Mom has this. And by extension, we have this. Which means now you have this too, temporarily. As in, don’t get too attached.”
I rolled my eyes and dragged my bag inside.
Maria froze halfway through the doorway, blinking rapidly. “It’s so…clean.”
Mac snorted. “It’s a cabin, not a hospital. Relax.”
“Cabins can be dirty,” Maria whispered like she was confessing a felony.
“Everything’s dirty to you, you germ goblin,” Dalton said.
Maria ignored him and walked straight toward the glass doors overlooking the lake. I could practically see the thought form in her head before she said it. “We should go swimming.”
Diego perked up immediately. “Now?”
“Yes,” she said with complete conviction.
“But we just got here,” Mac said.
Maria didn’t blink. “And?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Maria, honey, you’re pregnant. Maybe just let’s get settled first—”
She turned, hands on her hips, looking absolutely ready to fight me. “I am pregnant, not made of porcelain. It’s a lake. I want to swim before the boys turn it into testosterone soup.”
Dalton threw his shirt at her. “You wound me.”
“You deserve it,” she fired back.
Jackson had wandered out onto the deck, leaning on the railing, staring at the water with a look I couldn’t place. Something soft. Something tired. My stomach tightened.
Maria nudged me. “Let’s go get changed.”
“I don’t want to—” I trailed off because even I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Also, because I was still staring at Jackson and multi-tasking had never been a skill of mine.
