Page 27 of Not Until I Found You

Her face softens, and something in my chest shifts, like a door I thought I’d locked finally creaking open.

“Plus, I’m a mess too. I’m covered in sawdust from work earlier. No matter what I do, it clings to me.”

“It’s man-glitter,” we say at the same time.

Laughter bursts out from her. “You got that from my brother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“Glitter is, like, his worst nightmare, so sawdust⁠—”

“—is almost as bad, in his eyes,” I finish her sentence, and the smile she gives me almost glows under the light of the setting sun.

We’re silent for a moment before she bends down to give Sven a scratch behind his ear and then hikes a thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I should probably head inside and get cleaned up.”

I get how she might be feeling at this moment. For me, after I open myself up to someone, I always need a few minutes to sort of shut down and restore my sense of privacy. So you’d think I’d back off and give her the space she needs.

Instead, as if an outside force takes over me, I blurt out, “You should come back out when you’re finished.”

She pauses mid-step, arching a brow in confusion.

“Wren and I are about to have a fire and some s’mores. You can join us, if you’d like. There’s nothing that a s’more can’t fix.”

“We’d love to have you!” Wren yells, and I turn to see her walking toward the fire pit, smirking as she winks at me. She’s been spying on us the whole time, I’m sure, and I’m going to hear all about this from her. Great.

Maxinne’s eyes widen as she shakes her head and whispers so that only I can hear, “Oh I can’t interrupt your date. I’ll⁠—”

“It’s not a date, I promise. Wren’s one of my best friends,” I say quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “Think about it while you get cleaned up. And if you’re up for it, you’re welcome to join us.”

She hesitates for a few seconds before nodding. I watch her until I see the front door shut to the cabin and take in a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for whatever Wren is about to put me through.

I make my way over to the fire pit and hold up a hand. “Not a word.”

“Who says I was going to say anything?” Wren’s smirk grows.

I frown at her. “Have you met you?”

She giggles, setting down some extra plates and napkins. “So that’s her, huh?”

“Yup.” I busy myself with getting the fire started then move the cooler to a better spot between us and grab a bag of marshmallows. I open it with my teeth, more aggressively than necessary, sending marshmallows flying everywhere.

Wren starts cackling, and I want to smack myself.

“Why are you so tense, Zane?”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are.”

“Am not.”

“Okay.” She holds up her hands and, in air quotes, replies, “You’re not.”

I raise a brow, even though I’m used to this sort of attitude from her.

“See, I’m using what most humans call sarcasm because telling you that you’re full of crap is considered rude in most social situations. And I’m trying to be a good friend.”

I hold up my hand and, in air quotes, say, “You’re being a good friend.” A sharp sting runs through my left arm as she slaps it. “Ow! What was that for?”