Page 50 of That Rush

“There’s a man wearing a shirt on the cover,” I say.

“That never stopped your mother.”

Mom slides Josie’s bag toward him. “Take this upstairs.”

Dad grins as he lifts it. “Listen to your mother, Aiden. She has experience with men who make excellent choices.”

“Go.”

He carries the bag out as Josie races back in, chin high with accomplishment.

“I packed three pairs of underwear.”

“For one night?”

“What if something happens?”

“Whatever you’re expecting from Grandma’s house, you’re prepared.”

She wraps her arms around my waist. “Are you going on a date with Miss Paige?”

“I’m hoping to.”

“Does she know?”

“She knows I’m coming to ask.”

Josie leans back. “You should say please.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And don’t call her lady.”

“I learned that lesson.”

She smiles, satisfied, and hurries upstairs after her grandfather.

Mom picks up my keys and hands them to me. “Listen to her.”

“That’s it?”

“Paige tells you exactly what she means. You only get into trouble when you decide you heard something else.”

I take the keys. “I can listen.”

“I know.” Her expression softens. “That’s why you have a chance.”

The drive into the foothills takes thirty minutes. Dinner sits on the passenger floorboard, and the paperback is on the seat beside Paige’s address.

Tonight, I’m offering dinner inside the evening she already chose. If she says no, I will hate the answer, respect it, and drive home with all of this.

Her porch light is on when I turn into the drive.

Paige opens the door before I knock. She’s wearing denim shorts and a soft green shirt, her hair twisted up—her mouth curved as if she’d heard every version of this conversation I rehearsed on the drive.

“You found me,” she says.

“You gave me an address.”