Why not

Ethan and Mia spent the rest of the festival day moving through the crowd like they’d always belonged there together. Word had spread fast after Tyler’s comment that morning, and by the time the sun started to dip, half of Willow Bend seemed to know that Ethan Brooks and Mia Torres were no longer just best friends. Some people smiled and clapped Ethan on the shoulder when they thought no one was looking. Others stared a little too long or whispered behind their hands. Small-town gossip moved quicker than the river itself.

They didn’t hide it. Mia kept her hand in his or resting on his arm as they walked the grounds. When they stopped at the barbecue booth for dinner, she leaned into his side while they waited in line, and Ethan let himself enjoy it — the easy way her body fit against his, the way she laughed at something he said like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day. For the first time in years, the weight on his chest felt a little lighter.

The live music started up on the main stage as the sky turned pink and gold. People danced in the open space in front of the river, kids ran around with glow sticks, and the whole town seemed to breathe easier for one night. Ethan and Mia found a spot near the edge of the crowd, close enough to feel the bass in their chests but far enough back that they could talk without shouting.

Mia’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at it, frowned, and showed Ethan the screen.

Unknown number: We should talk about the riverfront before the vote. I’ll be at the festival tonight.

Ethan read it twice. “Who is that?”

Mia’s expression tightened. “I think it’s someone from the developer’s office. My dad mentioned they’ve been calling around trying to get people on their side before the council meeting next week.”

Ethan felt the familiar knot form in his stomach — the same one that appeared whenever someone brought up the shop or his dad or the way everything seemed to be changing faster than he could keep up. He looked out at the river, dark now but still moving steady under the festival lights. His dad had fought for this place once. The letters in the drawer upstairs were proof of that.

“They’re here?” he asked.

Mia nodded. “Probably. My dad said they sent someone to ‘observe’ the festival and see how attached people really are to the land.” She looked up at him, eyes serious. “What do you want to do?”

Ethan didn’t answer right away. He thought about the letters, about the way his dad had written that some things were worth standing up for even when it was hard. He thought about Mia and the way she’d looked at him this morning in bed — open, hopeful, a little scared. He thought about the town that had raised him, the river that had been there his whole life, and the developer who wanted to turn it into something that didn’t belong here.

“I want to talk to them,” he said finally. “Not to fight. Just… to understand what they’re offering. And to make sure they understand what they’re trying to take.”

Mia squeezed his hand. “Okay. Then we’ll do it together.”

They found the man near the back of the main stage, standing apart from the crowd with a tablet in his hand and a polite, practiced smile on his face. He was in his forties, wearing a button-down shirt that looked too crisp for a river festival, and he introduced himself as Mark Ellison from Horizon Development. He shook their hands like this was a business meeting instead of a small-town celebration.

“I’ve heard a lot about you two already,” Mark said with a chuckle, glancing between them. “Small towns move fast with news, don’t they?”

Ethan didn’t smile back. “What do you want with the riverfront?”

Mark’s smile stayed in place, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re interested in bringing jobs and growth to Willow Bend. A resort and retail development on the unused land along the river could bring in tourism, create local employment, and increase property values. We’ve done similar projects in other small towns and the results have been very positive.”

Mia crossed her arms. “Positive for who? The people who already live here or the people moving in from out of town?”

Mark’s gaze flicked to her, then back to Ethan. “Both, ideally. But change is inevitable. The land is underutilized right now. A project like this could secure the town’s future instead of letting it slowly fade.”

Ethan thought about his dad’s letters again — the one where he’d written about fighting to keep the river public so future generations could fish and swim and just exist there without someone charging admission. He thought about the shop and how hard his mom was working to keep it running. He thought about Mia wanting to go to art school but feeling guilty about leaving.

“The town isn’t fading,” Ethan said, voice steady. “It’s just trying to figure out how to keep being itself. My dad helped keep this river public once. I’m not going to stand by while someone tries to sell it off.”

Mark studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I respect that. But the offer is still on the table. We’d like to present at the council meeting next week. Maybe you and your… girlfriend could come and hear us out. Ask questions. See the numbers.”

Mia stepped closer to Ethan, her shoulder brushing his. “We’ll be there.”

Mark handed them a card and walked away toward the parking area. Ethan watched him go, the knot in his stomach tightening into something sharper. He felt Mia’s hand slip into his and squeeze.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, though his voice came out rougher than he meant. “Just… thinking about my dad. He would’ve hated that guy.”

Mia turned to face him fully, her free hand coming up to rest on his chest. “Then we fight like he would have. Together.”

They stood there for a while, the music and laughter of the festival wrapping around them. Ethan pulled her closer and kissed her — slow and deep, right there in the middle of the crowd. He didn’t care who saw. When they broke apart, Mia’s eyes were bright.

“Come home with me again tonight?” she asked.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah. I want to.”

They stayed at the festival a little longer, walking the grounds hand in hand, saying hi to people who stopped them, stealing quiet moments behind booths when no one was looking. At one point they slipped away to the edge of the river path again. Mia pushed him gently against a tree and kissed him hard, her hands sliding under his shirt while his gripped her ass and pulled her closer. They didn’t go further than heated kissing and wandering hands — too many people nearby — but the promise of later hung between them like electricity.

By the time the main concert ended and people started heading home, Ethan and Mia were both ready to leave. They drove to her house in separate cars, but she was waiting at the door when he pulled up. The second they were inside, clothes started coming off. They didn’t even make it to the bedroom at first — Mia pushed him onto the couch again and climbed into his lap, riding him slow and deep while they kissed and touched and whispered things they’d been holding back for years.

Later, in her bed, they went slower. Ethan took his time with his mouth between her legs until she was shaking and pulling at his hair, then slid inside her and moved with long, deliberate strokes while they looked at each other. They came together again, bodies locked tight, and afterward they lay tangled up talking about everything — the developer, the council vote, what it would mean if the resort happened, what it would mean if it didn’t. Mia talked more about art school and the fear that she’d leave and regret it. Ethan talked about the shop and how part of him still felt like he was only staying because his dad couldn’t anymore.

They didn’t solve anything that night. But when they finally fell asleep, Ethan’s arm around her waist and her head on his chest, it felt like they were starting to figure it out together.

The next morning they woke up to sunlight and the sound of the river outside. Mia made coffee while Ethan stood behind her at the counter, arms around her waist, kissing the side of her neck. They didn’t talk much at first. They didn’t need to.

Later, as they got ready to head back to the festival for its final day, Ethan checked his phone. There was a text from his mom.

Mom: Heard some interesting things about you and Mia Torres. Come by the diner when you have time. Love you.

Ethan showed Mia the message. She smiled, a little nervous but mostly steady.

“You ready for that conversation?” she asked.

Ethan pulled her in and kissed her forehead. “Yeah. I think I am.”

They walked out of the house together into the bright morning light, the river moving beside them and the rest of the summer — and whatever came after — stretching out ahead.