My small car has never felt smaller than it does right now as we try to stuff June and all her luggage and noise into it.
"You ever hear of a thing called a duffle bag?" I ask, giving her suitcase a shove into my trunk.
It fits fine. I just like giving her a hard time. And I do think a suitcase is a bit much for a weekend trip to UCLA. How much could she possibly need for a two night stay?
"Shut up, Gray." June rolls her eyes.
I roll mine right back. "Shut up, June."
"Play nice, children," Mia intervenes. She makes a show of holding up the grocery bag full of gas station goodies we stopped for on the way to Cal Poly. "Or you won't get any snacks on the road."
"Yes, maam," June and I say at the same time.
Taking the long way around my Hellcat to the driver's side, I pass Mia as she stands at the passenger door.
"You sure about that job in criminal justice, Tink?" I throw her a smirk. "You sounded just like my kindergarten teacher just now."
She shrugs. "I get it from my mom."
"I thought you got your knack for arguing from your mom. Isn't she a lawyer?"
"She was a teacher first," she explains. "But let's face it, any lawyer vibes I caught from her might also be useful in dealing with the two of you someday." Her gaze flits over to June and then back to me, amusement curving onto her lips. "Then again, criminal justice might be best after all."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, following her previous eyeline to June. And what the actual fuck? She's drawing on the back window of my car with a marker. A marker that better come off easily. "June, what the hell are you doing?"
"Writing I'm not as cool as my car on the back of your car," she says like it's nothing.
Mia snort laughs and I shoot her a look before turning my attention back to June.
"Give me that marker and get in the car."
June promptly steps back, inspecting her work. "Chill out, it'll come right off."
"Yeah, it better," I mumble as I climb into the driver's seat," when you clean it off."
The girls file into the backseat, June with her satisfied smirk and Mia with her cute indifference.
I can't help noticing how, before we became whatever it is we've become, I definitely would have gotten more than just a snort laugh from her.
If this was last summer, she probably would have laughed it up and cheered on June's vandalism, anything to get on my nerves. But now, she's confiscated the marker from my cousin, inspecting it carefully as we get on the road.
"It's water based," she says. When I glance up, I catch her eyes in the rearview mirror as she adds, "It's made for cars, so it'll come right off."
I give her an appreciative nod and June pouts.
"Don't help him," she whines. "It's a prank. To get him back for all those ones he used to pull on us."
"Vandalism isn't the way, bestie," Mia says in a cute sing-song voice as she tosses the marker up into the front seat. June scowls at her, but Mia just returns it with a smile and bumps shoulders with her. "Why do you have it anyway? Don't tell me you went out of your way to buy it special for this occasion."
June waves her off. "Of course not. A bunch of us swiped the markers from a party at the Mustangs house off campus. The guys used them to decorate their bus after they won against Fresno."
Talk of football players and the word party, coming out of June's mouth, has my ears buzzing. I steal another peek into the backseat to see Mia looking equally afflicted as she glances over at June, worry etching its way across her forehead.
June sees the face and laughs. "Don't worry, Mama Mia. I was being perfectly responsible. Only two beers and I designated a teammate to keep me honest." She stops to giggle before adding, "Well, apart from swiping the markers."
I hear Mia's relieved sigh drift through the Hellcat as I keep my eyes on the road, that same relief working its way through my chest.
"But enough about me," June goes on, the giggles subsiding, her voice growing soft. "What's going on with you? You seem different."
My ears perk up again. Am I allowed to hear this conversation? Should I be listening in? I don't see how I could avoid eavesdropping when I'm the one driving, but something about the uncharacteristic tenderness in June's tone has me feeling like an intruder.
"Different how?" Mia asks.
"I don't know. You're definitely smiling more."
"Am I?"
"Yes. You seem happier for sure. And definitely more relaxed. What's gotten into you?"
My dick, that's what.
For a second there, I think I must've said that out loud because Mia makes a weird choking sound and clears her throat. But if June had heard me say that, we would know. So, I have to assume that Mia's mind went straight to the gutter with me.
I kinda like that thought.
"Maybe I'm just happy to see you, June," she finally answers, her voice picking up a note of enthusiasm. Probably to try and divert the conversation and keep my nosy cousin from prying.
June beams. "Of course you're happy to see me. There's just something else there that I can't put my finger on." She looks down at her phone when it dings with a text. As she taps the screen, her next words roll out distracted but oozing with mischief. "Not getting laid are you?"
Mia's eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror again, those honey swirls growing wide with shock. But there's also a tiny smirk battling for space on her lips, and it's too fucking cute.
But just as I'm turning my attention back to the road, her expression goes desperate like she's wondering how the hell she's supposed to answer June's question and maybe looking for a save.
I have no idea what to do though. I'm at risk of blowing our cover if it goes wrong. I don't know if I should keep my mouth shut or laugh or make a smart ass comment.
In the end, I decide to try and shut the conversation down entirely. "Enough girl talk back there," I spout off, reaching for the volume dial and turning the music up. It's a weak attempt and both girls know it.
Mia looks disappointed in me, giving me the old Really? That's what you went with? look. And June just rolls her eyes.
"Shut up, Gray," she sighs, looking up from her phone. Next thing I know, her hand is flying up to my head and she's messing with my hair. And I can't do a damn thing about it because I'm driving. "Let me find out who's making my best friend so happy. This conversation doesn't involve you. We all know you're getting laid."
My eyes fly up to the mirror again, flickering past June's deviant smile and landing on Mia as she presses her lips together and tries not to let her smile loose.
"First of all, keep your hands to yourself and don't distract the driver," I say to my cousin, unable to help my own smile from making an appearance. "And how the hell would you know I'm getting laid?"
June shrugs. "Same way I know Mia probably is. You're completely different. Nicer. More relaxed."
"Is that right?"
"Yep. A few months ago, you would have murdered me for vandalizing your precious car. But you're acting totally chill about it."
Damn. She's got a point.
"Not to mention," she goes on. "I totally destroyed your long, luxurious hair just now and you didn't even care."
Fuck. She's right, again. I'm not acting like myself at all. What is happening to me? Is Mia a superhero?
"I do care that you touched my hair," I quickly clarify. "I just don't have the energy to fight you on it."
"Because that mop on your head is too heavy?" June retorts like lightning.
"Fuck," I mumble. That does it. I really need a fucking haircut. I feel ridiculous. "My mom didn't have time to do it last time she was here and she won't be back for another game until after Thanksgiving. I don't have anyone here that I trust to cut my hair. So, please. Drop it."
"You should just have Mia cut it," June suggests, her tone casual, as though the solution is so simple.
"June," Mia sighs.
I turn and take a quick look into the backseat this time to see her. "You cut hair?"
Mia says "No!" at the same time as June says "Yes!"
"Well, which is it?"
"She totally does," June comes in quick. "She learned how by cutting Uncle Tommy's hair."
Interesting. I had no idea. But what I do know is that most police officers keep it high and tight. If Mia knows her way around a pair of clippers and she's cut Tommy's hair before, I bet she can handle a simple fade.
Stealing another glance at her, I can see she looks semi uncomfortable, so I decide to drop it for now. But we'll definitely be revisiting this one.
"Enough about your hair, Gray," June says, commanding the conversation again. It's a unique and annoying talent of hers. But as long as she's not going to bring up the getting laid thing again, we'll be good. She claps her hands and does a little dance in the backseat. "Who wants to hear all about my super hot and super off limits swimming coach?"
"Oh geez..." My sigh is so loud, they probably heard it in Canada.
Mia shakes her head but relaxes back into her seat with a smile, readying herself for what will surely be a very interesting and time-consuming story. "Let's hear it, June."
This is going to be a long weekend.
*****
The weekend wasn't just long. It was downright fucking exhausting.
Keeping my wild and busy cousin entertained for two days on a college campus, while avoiding all manner of alcohol and parties, was no task for the faint of heart.
I just got back from dropping June at Cal Poly, and I feel ready for a nap. I wonder how Mia's doing. She had it harder than me with June staying in her dorm. With any luck, she's getting a well-deserved nap in right now.
Speaking of which, I'm about to collapse into bed when there's a knock at my door. My groan is obnoxious, figuring it has to be Tubs again. Wanting to borrow my Bluetooth speaker, which isn't going to happen. He spilled mustard on it last time it was in his care and said it was the cheeseburger's fault.
Great. Now I'm hungry.
In a very pleasant turn of events, Mia is the one on the other side of the door when I answer it. With a pretty face, tired eyes, and holding a small black case in her hands.
"Was I expecting you?" I ask, honestly. I'm too exhausted to remember if we had plans to meet later.
"Not exactly," she answers. "I'm completely unexpected right now..." Her words drop off and her eyes grow wary. "Is that okay?"
"Of course it's okay," I laugh, swinging the door all the way open and gesturing inside. The smell of strawberry shampoo breezes past my nose when she passes me by and I find myself a whole lot more alert than I was a minute ago.
Leaning against my desk, I watch as she takes a look around the room like it's her first time in here. When, in reality, she's been spending a lot more time in here than I think either of us ever expected.
"Did you get June all settled in?" Mia asks, her eyes finally trailing back to mine.
I nod. "As settled as June could ever be."
"I hear that," she laughs softly, setting down the black case she brought in and I can't take the anticipation anymore. I've been wondering what it was since she appeared at my door.
"What's in the case?"
She looks over at it, pausing for a second before answering. "Actually, it's a set of hair clippers," she mutters softly as her eyes lift up to mine. "I was going to see if you wanted me to cut your hair."
"Really?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.
We haven't talked about the idea of her giving me a haircut since I found out it was even a possibility. I didn't have a chance to bring it up over the weekend and, honestly, I thought I'd have to beg when I did. Break her down a little to get her to agree.
"Yeah," Mia says with the cutest smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. "I mean, my abilities are meager when compared to my mother's, but I do know what I'm doing. Sort of."
She shrugs, looking a little uncertain now, and I can't help thinking how very un-Mia-like it is for her to downplay her abilities. "But mostly, I know how badly you want it done because you never stop complaining about it. So, I figured I'd help you out."
Her voice picks up some confidence at the end there, the old Mia showing up again, and it makes me smile. But I'm also kind of suspicious. I never expected her to offer.
"And you're serious about this?" I ask. "This isn't some kind of prank you and June planned behind my back?"
"No," she says, laughing as she grabs the case and opens it. "If you have a haircut, you'll stop bitching about how hot and uncomfortable you are all the time. So, it's for my benefit just as much as yours. We all win, really. The whole campus will be better off if Grayson Adler has a haircut."
She's got a point there. "Okay," I accept her offer. "Let's do it."
Next thing I know, my desk chair is in the middle of the room, I'm sitting on it with a towel wrapped around my neck and Mia's staring at my mop of hair with a very serious expression on her face. She's chomping on the inside of her cheek as her eyes dash all over my head and I've never felt more nervous.
Only two people have ever cut my hair for me. My mother. And Vito. I trust them wholly with the task, and never imagined the possibility of handing this responsibility over to anyone else. Especially not Mia. Am I doing the wrong thing? Is this a mistake?
I think I'm overthinking this.
I trust Mia. I know that much.
Okay, I'm fine. This is going to be fine.
"You okay?" Mia's voice interrupts my manic thoughts. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," I choke out.
A mischievous laugh pours from her mouth. "Just relax, Gray. I'll do my best not to make you bald."
I turn frozen in my seat. "Seriously, Tink?"
This was a mistake.
"I'm kidding!" she laughs, but proceeds to take a deep breath and lets her humor subside. Her voice is soft and calm again when she repeats her words from a moment ago, "Just relax, okay?"
I hear her fasten the clipper guard into place with a click and then she's right at my side, her proximity alone calming my nerves by the second. When she runs her fingers through my hair, getting a feel for the job ahead of her, my shoulders relax entirely under her touch.
"Does your mom use scissors on the top?" she asks.
I nod. "Yeah. Just to clean it up."
"Okay."
She turns the clippers on and gets to work, the low buzz filling the air and the vibration tickling my neck as she glides them slowly up along my head. Circling around me to get all the angles, her body brushing mine with each pass.
It's so relaxing, I want to fall asleep, but I'm far too aware of how close she is right now and I'm all fucking confused. Even as my eyes want to drift shut, my heart races in my chest. How does she do that?
With me sitting and her standing, my vantage point certainly isn't helping. The outline of her toned figure fills my vision, perfect tits right there whenever my eyes drift up. Every time she lifts her arms even a little, a sliver of skin on her stomach reveals itself to me under the hem of her shirt and I'm about to have a problem I've never had during a fucking haircut before.
"Where'd you get the clippers?" I ask her. My weak attempt at staying focused.
"Borrowed them from one of the guys on the baseball team," she mutters, distracted as she tilts my head this way and that.
Her words send an irrational rush of jealousy straight to my chest, emphasis on the irrational.
I'm the one she's spending a bunch of her time with, after all. We bounce back and forth between our dorms like horny ping pong balls. Fuck, she's giving me a haircut right now. I have no reason to feel any type of way about some other guy she knows.
"Who do you know on the baseball team?" I ask anyway.
"All of them?" Mia answers like a question, and I can hear the smart ass grin she must have on her face. But her voice goes back to normal as she explains, "Our teams tend to gravitate to the same areas and we train together sometimes."
"Oh."
Makes sense. Still don't like it. I shift a little on the chair as Mia keeps buzzing away at my hair, hopefully oblivious to the unwelcome stiffness in my shoulders.
"They have a preseason game coming up, so we'll probably have a practice session with them this week," she adds softly, more to herself. Like she's trying to remember to add it to her planner when she goes back to her dorm.
"Do you watch their games?" I can't help asking.
"Most of them."
Now I find myself reining in an extra hard dose of jealousy. I know it makes sense that she spends time with the baseball team. But we spend time together, too. Sure, we don't train or anything, but we've been hooking up for weeks. And though the terms of our arrangement feel a little more blurry every time we're together, we are friends.
For real, I think. And for probably the first time ever since we met when we were ten years old. And yet...
"Have you ever been to a football game?" The question rolls out of my mouth without permission, and I feel like a whiny bitch.
Powering off the clippers, Mia sets them aside and comes around to stand in front of me. I can feel her eyes beaming down on me, but my own struggle to go directly up and meet her gaze.
Instead, they pause for a second on the band of her shorts then do a slow roll up. Pausing again on her tits. Because fucking damn.
When I finally make it up to see her face, a little smile is painted on her lips. "I haven't been to a football game," she says, her honey eyes holding mine.
I clear my throat. "We're playing USC this weekend. It's kind of a big game..." As my words trail off, Mia's eyebrows tip up. Anticipating what I'm going to say next, or maybe because she's wondering where my typical confidence went as I struggle to continue my thought. What the hell is wrong with me? It's just a fucking game. "Will you come watch?"
Her smile grows, making the room a whole lot brighter, and she nods. "Yeah, I'd love to."
And with that, the room fills with a pleasant silence as she grabs the scissors and gets back to work on my hair.
The weight of her hand on my head fills me with sensation as she holds it in place while the other trims up my raggedy ends. I'm no longer a nervous mess though. About the haircut or asking her to the game. I'm just... happy, relaxed. Enthralled by the warmth I can feel radiating off of her body as she stands in between my legs.
Feeling compelled to make contact, I reach out and plant my hands on her thighs. Her skin is so soft, I sometimes think she can't even be real. That one day, I'll discover I was just imagining this whole thing we have going on. That all the times we've fucked and cuddled and laughed together will turn out to be some masterpiece of my wild imagination, set in motion the first time we crossed paths, and all that ever existed was the bickering and eye rolling and the not getting along.
That's a dire thought.
In order to anchor myself to the moment and remind myself that her softness is something that's real, not something I've made up in my head, I run my hands up and down her thighs, tickling her skin with my fingertips before letting them wander up further. Past her shorts and sneaking under her shirt, searching for more skin, more softness. More of this perfect reality.
"You're distracting me," Mia says, her voice a whisper above the snip of the scissors.
"You're distracting me," I mutter in return.
When I reach around and give her ass a gentle smack, she jumps and her giggle flows out like the chorus of my favorite song. I could listen to it forever.
Mia puts the scissors down. "You're lucky I'm done or you might've gotten a really ugly cowlick from that little stunt."
"You wouldn't dare." I narrow my eyes at her.
All she does is smirk. "It would be your fault."
I lean back in the chair. "If I get a bad haircut because I touched your butt, so be it."
"You would say that," she sighs, shaking her head as she pulls the towel from around my neck and looks down at the mess on the floor. "How are we going to clean this up?"
I tip my chin at the closet. "I have one of those handheld vacuum things in there."
"Oh, perfect," she says and walks off to get it. But I grab her hand and pull her back in front of me. A low, sultry hum slips past her lips as I lift her onto my lap. She straddles my legs and my dick rejoices. I'm actually pretty proud of him, we've been holding off the urge a bit too long.
"We'll clean up later," I say to Mia, my hands sliding up her arms, over her shoulders and landing on her neck. I pull her mouth down to mine. Tasting vanilla chapstick, smelling strawberries and her.
She smiles into the kiss. "You don't even want to see your hair first?"
"Nope."
"It could look terrible," she says as she grinds herself against me.
I pull away and look up at her. "Does it?"
"No," she whispers, her eyes leaving mine to skim over my hair, looking satisfied with her work. She reaches up and runs her fingers through it. I feel like melting. "I think it looks nice."
"Good enough for me."
She laughs. "You are not the same Grayson Adler I spent the summer with."
"I know. I'm way better."
She rolls her eyes at that. But what she doesn't realize is that it's true. I think I am better, but not in an arrogant way. I'm different. Just like June said. I'm better than the version of myself that spent the summer volunteering at the community center. I'm happier, more calm. More motivated than ever to be a good person and make the right decisions, do the right thing.
And something else Mia doesn't realize is that she's part of the reason for that.