Page 109 of That Rush

“I’ve noticed.”

Her smile eases the watchfulness in her eyes. I want to walk her inside with my arm around her and let everyone see that she chose to come. That would turn her decision into a performance before she reaches the door.

I settle for taking her bag. “The guest list is exactly what I promised. Mom, Dad, the three of us, Axel, Sadie, Poppy, Adrienne, Scotty, and Silas.”

“No cousins waiting behind the curtains?”

“Dad suggested one uncle might stop by. I threatened to move dinner to my house.”

“Effective.”

“Mom will try to feed you twice and Dad will tease you. Axel and Adrienne team up when they sense weakness.”

“I learned that at the library.”

“Sadie will help unless she thinks watching is funnier. Scotty stays quiet until he can do the most damage. Silas throws food. Poppy will ask what you’re reading.”

“Useful. What will Josie do?”

“I’m right here,” Josie says.

Paige glances at her. “That answers my question.”

We start toward the house, but I stop before the porch steps. “What do you need from me?”

Paige studies me. “You practiced that question.”

“I considered several versions.”

“Of course you did.” She shifts closer. “Please don’t hover.”

“I don’t hover.”

“You’re standing close enough to catch me if I trip over a blade of grass.”

I take half a step away. “Better?”

She catches my wrist, places my hand against the small of her back, and leaves it there. “This is fine. Just don’t start steering.”

Her permission sends a low thrum of heat through my veins. I keep my palm still. “Understood.”

Josie takes Paige’s free hand as we climb the steps. Paige looks down at their joined fingers, then at me, and I fight the urge to build a future out of a single walk into my parents’ house.

Paige chose tonight. I keep my attention there instead of trying to turn one dinner into proof of anything beyond it.

Mom opens the door before we reach it.

“There’s my girl.” She crouches, and Josie releases Paige to throw both arms around her grandmother’s neck. Mom hugs her tight, kissing her hair before leaning back to examine the glittery clip above her ear. “Did your dad manage that?”

“I did it myself,” Josie says. “Daddy said it was too dangerous.”

“It has teeth,” I remind her.

Mom stands and turns to Paige. “I’m glad you came, Paige.”

She says her name, and her welcome is just that—a welcome. Not a claim, not an expectation. I see it in the directness of her gaze.

Paige’s shoulders ease beneath my hand. “Thank you for having me.”