Of course

Ethan woke up the next morning in his own bed, but the sheets still smelled faintly like Mia from the night before. They’d driven back to his place after the festival wound down, too wired from the day’s events — the developer’s smooth-talking rep, the way people had looked at them walking hand-in-hand, the quiet conversations they’d had in the truck on the way home — to say goodnight right away. One thing had led to another, like it always seemed to now. They’d barely made it through the door before clothes were coming off again, Mia pushing him back onto the couch in the living room, straddling him with that same hungry look in her eyes she’d had at the quarry and behind the stage.

He could still feel the ghost of her body on his — the way she’d sunk down onto him, tight and wet and perfect, riding him slow at first while she kissed him like she was trying to memorize the taste. Then faster, her full breasts bouncing as she moved, her moans getting louder until she came with a sharp cry, clenching around him so hard it dragged him over the edge too. They’d ended up in his bed after that, slower the second time, faces close, hands intertwined above her head while he thrust deep and steady, whispering her name against her neck. She’d come again, softer this time, and he’d followed, burying himself inside her as they held each other through it.

Now, sunlight was streaming through the blinds, and Ethan could hear his mom moving around downstairs in the kitchen. The smell of coffee and bacon drifted up. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and saw a text from Mia, sent just a few minutes ago.

Mia: Morning. Last night was… really good. My parents are back today but I’m still thinking about you. You okay after talking to your mom?

He smiled, thumbs moving quickly over the screen.

Ethan: Morning. Yeah, it went better than I thought. She’s worried but she’s on our side. You?

Mia: Same. A little nervous about everything but… I’m glad we’re doing this. The festival was kind of amazing yesterday, even with the developer guy lurking around.

Ethan: Yeah. Speaking of that… there’s a town council meeting tonight about the riverfront vote. I was thinking we should go. Say something. My dad would’ve wanted us to.

The reply came back almost immediately.

Mia: I was thinking the same thing. My dad mentioned it this morning. Want to go together?

Ethan: Yeah. Pick you up at 6?

Mia: Perfect. And Ethan… last night meant a lot. Not just the sex. The talking too.

He stared at the message for a second, heart doing that familiar flip. It was getting harder and harder to imagine this town — or his life — without her in it. He typed back.

Ethan: It meant everything to me too. See you tonight.

Downstairs, his mom was at the stove flipping pancakes when he walked in. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a small smile, the kind that said she knew more than she was letting on.

“Morning, kiddo. Coffee’s fresh. Sit.”

He poured himself a cup and slid into a chair at the kitchen table, the same one he’d sat at a thousand times growing up. His dad’s old mug was still in the cabinet — Ethan hadn’t been able to bring himself to use it yet, but he saw it every morning. His mom set a plate in front of him and sat down across from him with her own coffee.

“So,” she said after a minute. “You and Mia.”

Ethan nodded, taking a sip. “Yeah. We’re… together. For real. It’s new but it feels right. We told each other a lot last night. About the future. About what we want.”

His mom stirred her coffee, eyes thoughtful. “I meant what I said yesterday. Your father would be happy for you. He liked her a lot. But he’d also want you to be sure about what you’re fighting for — the town, the river, your own life. That developer isn’t going away quietly. The meeting tonight’s going to be tense.”

“I know,” Ethan said. “Mia and I are going. We want to say something. Dad’s letters… they’ve been on my mind a lot. He fought for this place. I think it’s time I did too.”

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Then do it. But remember — you don’t have to carry it all alone. You’ve got people who love you. Mia included, from the sound of it.” She paused, then added with a small smile, “And for what it’s worth… I like seeing you like this. Happier. Less weighed down. Just be careful with your heart, okay? Small towns have long memories.”

They talked a little longer — about the shop, about how business had been steady but not booming, about the way the festival had felt more alive this year because people were actually showing up to fight for something. Ethan told her a bit more about the developer’s pitch and how it had felt like a sales job dressed up as opportunity. His mom listened the way she always had, nodding at the right places, asking the questions that made him think deeper.

By the time he left for the shop, the sun was high and the weight on his chest felt a little more manageable. He texted Mia again on the way, just a quick Can’t stop thinking about last night. See you at 6. She sent back a heart emoji and a picture of the river from her bedroom window — the same view they’d looked at together more than once now.

The day passed in a blur of work and preparation. Ethan spent the morning at the shop, then drove out to the festival grounds in the afternoon to help with cleanup from the weekend events. People were already talking about the council meeting — some excited, some worried, a few openly skeptical about the developer’s promises. Tyler caught up with him near the stage and clapped him on the back with a grin.

“So, you and Mia, huh? About time, man. She’s good for you. And hey — if you two are gonna be the new power couple fighting the good fight, I’m in. Let me know if you need help with signs or whatever for this meeting.”

Ethan laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “Thanks, man. We might take you up on that.”

As the afternoon wore on, his thoughts kept drifting back to Mia — the way she’d looked riding him in the truck the night before, the soft sounds she made when he was inside her, the way she’d curled up against him afterward and talked about her art dreams without the usual hesitation in her voice. He wanted more of that. Not just the sex — though God, the sex was incredible — but the way she made him feel seen. Like he didn’t have to be the responsible son carrying his father’s legacy alone anymore.

By the time he picked her up at six, the sun was starting to set and the air had that golden, end-of-summer glow. Mia slid into the passenger seat of his truck wearing a simple sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places, her hair loose and wavy. She leaned over and kissed him before he even put the truck in drive — slow and deep, her hand resting on his thigh.

“Hey,” she said softly when they pulled apart. “You look good.”

“So do you,” he replied, letting his eyes linger on the way the dress dipped low enough to show the swell of her breasts. “Ready for this?”

“As ready as I can be.” She buckled her seatbelt and reached for his hand again as he pulled onto the road. “I’ve been thinking about what your mom said. About fighting for the town but also for ourselves. I don’t want to lose this — us — because of fear or what other people think.”

“Me neither,” Ethan said. The words felt bigger than they had a few days ago. “We’ll figure it out. One meeting at a time.”

The town hall was already packed when they arrived. Folding chairs filled the room, people standing along the walls, the low hum of nervous conversation filling the air. Ethan spotted his mom near the front with a few of her diner regulars. Tyler was there too, giving them a thumbs-up from across the room. The developer’s representative — Mark Ellison — was at a table near the council members, looking calm and collected in his crisp shirt.

The meeting started with the usual formalities — minutes from the last session, updates on festival funds — but it didn’t take long for the tension to rise. Someone from the audience stood up and asked about the developer’s proposal. Mark stood, smiling that same polite smile, and launched into his pitch again: jobs, growth, tourism, a brighter future for Willow Bend.

Ethan felt his jaw tighten. He glanced at Mia beside him; she was watching with that focused look she got when she was sketching or thinking hard about something. When Mark finished and opened the floor for questions, Ethan felt the words rising in his throat before he’d fully decided to speak.

He stood up.

The room quieted. Heads turned. He could feel the weight of every eye on him — neighbors, friends, people who’d known his dad.

“My name’s Ethan Brooks,” he said, voice steady even though his heart was pounding. “A lot of you knew my father. He loved this town. Loved the river. He fought to keep it public back in the day because he believed some things are worth protecting — not because they make the most money, but because they make this place home.” He paused, glancing at Mia for strength. She nodded, eyes bright. “I’ve been reading some of his old letters. He wrote about how easy it is to let things slip away if you’re not careful. About how the river isn’t just land — it’s memories. It’s where kids learn to swim, where families fish on weekends, where the town comes together. A resort might bring jobs, but it’ll change the heart of this place. And once it’s gone, we don’t get it back.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Someone clapped. Mark’s smile faltered just a fraction.

Ethan kept going. “My dad stayed here because he believed in Willow Bend. I’m still figuring out what I believe in, but I know it includes this river. And it includes fighting for the people who call this place home — not just the ones who want to build something new on top of it.” He looked around the room, meeting eyes. “So I’m asking everyone here tonight: before we vote, really think about what we’re risking. And if you agree, sign the petition. Show up. Make your voice heard.”

When he sat down, the applause was scattered but real. Mia squeezed his hand hard, her eyes shining. “That was… really good,” she whispered.

The meeting went on, more people speaking up — some for the developer, some against. The council took notes but didn’t vote yet; that would come later in the week. By the time it ended, Ethan felt wrung out but strangely lighter, like he’d finally said something that had been building inside him for months.

Outside in the parking lot, Mia pulled him into a hug, then kissed him right there under the streetlights. “I’m proud of you,” she said against his lips. “Your dad would be too.”

They drove back to her place after that, the truck quiet except for the low hum of the radio. The second they were inside, the tension that had been simmering all day — the meeting, the emotions, the way she’d looked at him when he spoke — boiled over. Mia pushed him against the door, kissing him hard, her hands already working at his belt. Ethan groaned, spinning them around so her back was to the wall, his mouth on her neck as he hiked up her dress.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. He lifted her onto the kitchen counter, pushing her panties aside and sinking into her in one smooth thrust. She was already wet, tight and hot around him, moaning his name as he moved. It was fast and **** at first — her legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders, the sound of skin on skin filling the quiet house. Then slower, deeper, his forehead pressed to hers as they looked at each other.

“I love you,” she whispered suddenly, the words slipping out between gasps. “I think I have for a long time.”

Ethan’s rhythm faltered for a second, his heart slamming in his chest. He kissed her hard, thrusting deeper. “I love you too,” he said against her mouth. “God, Mia — I love you.”

They came together like that, clinging to each other, the words hanging in the air between them like a promise. Afterward, they stayed connected for a long moment, breathing hard, trading soft kisses.

Later, curled up in her bed, they talked until late — about the meeting, about what came next with the vote, about her art school applications and whether she’d still go. Ethan told her more about the letters, about how reading them made him feel closer to his dad than he had in years. Mia admitted she was scared of leaving but even more scared of staying and never knowing what she could be.

They made love again before falling asleep — slower this time, faces close, hands gentle, like they were sealing something between them. Ethan held her afterward, her head on his chest, listening to her breathe.

The developer wasn’t going away. The gossip would keep spreading. But lying there with Mia in his arms, Ethan felt something settle inside him. He wasn’t just carrying his father’s legacy anymore. He was building something new — with her.

The river outside kept moving, steady and sure, like it always had. And for the first time, Ethan felt like he was moving with it instead of against the current.