She kept her eyes locked on the surrounding brush, using her free hand to pull a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, she…passed away a few years ago.”
A moment of awkward silence passed.
“Sorry to hear that.” He tightened his grip around her. More fractures developed in the icy glacier barricading his heart. “I always liked Laura. She made the best lasagna and was always nice to me.”
Mia’s eyes darted to him, and she gave him a small smile. “She liked you. We all liked you, Ross.”
He scoffed. “Your father definitely did not like me.”
Despite the pathetic hitch in her step, she grinned. “Okay, but that might be a case of not liking his precious daughter spending so much time with a teenage you. Not that Dad had anything to worry about.”
Ross wasn’t sure if this last comment was a dig at his unfortunate situation in high school. “Why do you say that?”
“Uh, do I need to bring out a copy of my last school photo to remind you what a dorky late bloomer I was? It’s not like I had anyone beating down my door to hang out with me. At least, not someone who wasn’t being forced to by the school counselor.”
Ross had a precise memory of what sixteen-year-old Mia looked like, and he smiled to himself.
Mia slid a glance to him, her mouth dropping. “Oh god, you remember. Please stop. It’s so embarrassing.”
“And now?”
“And now what?”
“Are they beating down your door?” Looking at the woman limping beside him, he couldn’t deny Mia was pretty. She was never ugly, but time had enhanced what she already had. Her chipper attitude, the same one he found so aggravating ten minutes earlier, had the ability to light her face, her eyes, her everything. She glowed with it and it didn’t matter if it was present day or ten years ago, he still had this unexplainable urge to press her to his body as though her warmth could be absorbed into his soul. Who wouldn’t see Mia Russo and greedily want her all to themselves? She had always possessed this quality. It’s what made her so attractive. This wasn’t even taking into account the amber eyes, the adorable faded freckles, or the damn dimple. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn there were all kinds of guys asking for “opinions” as an excuse to talk to her, including the grizzled, behemoth she came into the jewelry shop with that first time.
She shook her head while rolling her eyes. “Oh, sure. In fact, there are swarms of them around the house all the time. Why do you think I have to escape to the solitude of the woods? It’s the cute nerd thing I’m doing these days.”
“I thought it was to take photos.”
“That’s right,” she replied.
“On your phone.”
“Well, it’s currently the only camera I have. Here I’ll show you.” Mia pulled her phone from her pocket, scrolling through the screen. The image she shared was a beautiful shot of a great oak tree with gnarled, twisting branches. The golden light from the sun pierced through the gaps as if the tree was ordained by Apollo himself.
“It’s nice,” he agreed.
“And this was done with just my phone. Imagine what I could do if I had a camera like yours.”
“Why don’t you buy a nice camera?”
Her shoulders pumped in a light shrug. “It’s just a hobby and not a priority right now.”
They arrived at the trailhead parking lot.
“Did you drive?” Ross asked.
“Yeah, I’m right over there.” She pointed to the white compact while digging into a pocket for her keys.
Arriving at her car, his arm dropped away. Ross scowled at the emptiness he felt in letting her go. He would do best to remember that Mia didn’t belong in the space at his side.
Her eyes scanned his face. “Do you hate me?”
“I just helped you all the way back to your car. Would I have done that if I hated you?”
“Or you’re just a good guy.”
“I don’t hate you. You’re kind of impossible to hate. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in high school who tried and failed.”
