Page 94 of Just Act Natural

“I’m not gloating. I’m eager.”

She looks down at our intertwined fingers. “That’stooattractive.”

“I’ll takethe upgrade.”

Lila finally loses her battle, and her brilliant smile shines out. The full force of it hits me like a lightning bolt. I am a superhero charging up my powers on her sheer joy. All this light streaking through me brings clarity to one important point: if this woman breaks my heart one day, these moments with her will be worth the heartache.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

Her smile loses some of its luster. “I can’t. I have to meet with the crew in charge of the live music pavilion. We’re having a pizza party while we run through all the details.”

“No problem.”

“My schedule really is packed these next few days.”

“All the more reason to look forward to Thursday.” She’s working hard on this festival. I’m not going to give her grief over it.

She tilts her head, gazing up at me. “But…maybe I can call you tonight and find out what happens next to that wizard and his friend?”

There’s that lightning strike again. They say it doesn’t hit twice, but this joy humming through me feels pretty permanent when I’m with her.

“Deal.”

TWENTY-NINE

LILA

For someonewho hasn’t been on a bike for half her life, I’m doing pretty well. Sure, I was a little wobbly there at the beginning, and I’ve kept my hands far away from the gear shifters because I don’t trust them not to make the chain fall off, but I’m doing it. I’m riding a bike, in nature, on a lovely summer day. Feels pretty good.

It’d feel a whole lot better if little kids stopped passing me on the trail. Seriously, there are so many kids out here today. In a way, it’s reassuring. How hard can it be? Six-year-olds do it. But also, getting lapped by a first grader feels like something I should tell my therapist.

Grant, of course, rides with me as though my five miles per hour is a perfectly acceptable speed. He never complains, never gets snippy or asks me to pick up the pace. He’s always right here with an encouraging smile.

Honestly? It’s starting to drive me up the wall. I love how calm he is most of the time, but right now, I can’t take this much mellowness. Nothing ever gets to him. Nothing ever rattles him. Not even me.

Maybe that’s what bugs me the most. We can snuggle,confide in each other, and have the greatest kiss since people first tried shoving their mouths together, and he’s completely unbothered. Meanwhile, my feelings for him are like a cluttered junk drawer—everything’s in there. I miss him every day we’re not together. I can’t sleep without hearing his voice. My heart does cartwheels every time I see him. I have no idea what I am to him, and he’s just happy to be here.

I thought I could handle living off his crumbs, but I want more. I think I want everything.

Another family passes us by, and I heave a sigh. “That one had training wheels.”

Cute pink bike, though. Streamers dance in the breeze behind the handles, and she’s got a baby doll in a seat on the back. Her hot pink helmet says,Eat my dust.

I want to be her when I grow up.

“Want to snag that bench up ahead?” Grant asks.

I don’t even look. The answer is yes.

I bring my bike to a stop and lean it against the wood and metal bench. Stretching my legs, I pull off my helmet and shake out my shoulders. It’s a pretty place to stop. The river bends around this little piece of land, a shimmering ribbon in a sea of green pine trees.

Naturally, I pull out my phone to get some more pictures for my presentation.

“It’s a great spot for a selfie.”

I turn to face Grant. Admiring his handsomeness isnotthe point here. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

He still thinks shifting my content is the right way to go. Photos of my new location, my new hang-outs, my unadulterated face—he’s convinced my followers will want it all.

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