Page 17 of Canned & Coated

I roll my eyes, but it comes easier than it did only a few seconds ago. “Yeah, well, you were more tolerable before you got all those muscles.”

There it is. Back again. That old rhythm. That pull. The stupid back-and-forth that used to turn my stomach inside out. With our eyes locked, I remember what it felt like to be seventeen and completely wrecked by the way he used to look at me, back before I understood any of it.

His tongue slips out brushing across his lower lip. I watch it happen like the complete disaster I am, and he watches me watching.

When my eyes find his again, there’s something new there. Something I’ve never seen before. Not aimed at me.

Heat.

A heavy-lidded stare, pupils blown wide, his gaze moving over my face as if he’s trying to commit every detail to memory.

I inhale. Pine hangs in the air, but beneath it there’s only him. Sweat, sunscreen, skin, something warm and unmistakably Tanner. It fills my lungs like a secret I was never supposed to learn.

“If you needed a break, you could’ve yelled,” Milo’s tease cuts through the moment, voice sweet and absolutely loaded with trouble.

I scoff so hard I nearly choke on my own spit. “What makes you think I needed a break?”

He flicks his eyes toward Tanner, who lets out a laugh I haven’t heard in years. That full-bodied rumble that used to be as common as dirt between the three of us.

“Yeah,” Tanner calls, already jogging to catch up with Milo. “He needed a break.”

I’m left standing there with my mouth half open, all flustered and offended without being actually mad.

I did need a break, but I’m not about to admit it.

I cling to my fake outrage. It’s familiar. Safe. Much safer than whatever new and terrifying thing is trying to happen here.

Maybe if we can still do this dumb, teasing, easy version of us, then not everything is ruined.

Maybe we’re not as broken as I thought.

As I catch up, Milo falls into step beside me and bumps my shoulder with his.

“You didn’t have to stop on my account,” he stage-whispers loud enough for Tanner to hear.

I sigh as dramatically as possible. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he says cheerfully. “You hate cardio. Different issue.”

Somewhere in front of us, Tanner snorts.

Traitor.

Milo leans closer, dropping his voice only a little. “Also, for the record, watching you get caught by a hot man was very healing for me.”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “Growth occurred. Closure happened. My skin looks clearer already.”

“It was a stumble, not a romance novel.”

“Mm. Debatable. There was tension. Eye contact. Core engagement.”

I rub a hand down my face. “Please go be one with the moss somewhere else.”

Instead, he hooks an arm through mine for three steps before I shake him off.

“You spend so much energy trying not to want things,” he says, lighter now but not joking. “It’s exhausting to watch.”