Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) - Tina Wainscott Page 0,7

him.

Come up. I want to hear what you have to say. About Grandma. About your friendship with her.

I just want to hear your voice.

He remained in the shade of the tree. Mia certainly couldn’t think him a coward, not when she, too, was afraid to go up and speak. Facing cancer and burns wasn’t as hard as facing people, she mused. Wasn’t that crazy?

But then she stood. Walked to the microphone and fumbled as she adjusted it to her height. Cleared her throat and tried hard not to look at Raleigh. Instead, her gaze skipped across the rows and the ribbons dancing in the breeze.

“Thank you all for being part of her life. I…” Her eyes betrayed her, zeroing right in on Raleigh. Her thoughts froze. Time was suspended, everyone—every single person—focused on her. She cleared her throat, heat rising up her neck. “I’m jealous that you all got to spend time with her. To know her as a friend.” Her gaze went to Raleigh again. “Thank you,” she said again, thrashing herself for the impulse as she took her seat.

She would have no regret, though. If all those weeks and months and years of hospital stays had taught her anything, it was to let no opportunity slip by. Especially the ones where you left words unsaid. Important, life-changing words.

She searched through the people all getting to their feet. Raleigh leaned against the trunk now, his head tilted back. As though it was all too much to bear. The impulse now was to go to him.

But the director asked everyone to form a line to pay their respects before the casket was lowered into the ground. Mia had to follow her parents to form a reception line, where everyone offered their condolences before stepping up to the casket. Mia’s heart squeezed so tight that she could hardly breathe. Would Raleigh shake her hand? Hug her? Say in a low, intimate voice how very sorry he was for their loss? Their loss, because it was as much his as hers. Maybe more so.

As she accepted handshakes and hugs, she realized that she was so wrapped up in where he was that she wasn’t worried about anyone seeing her up close. The line was dwindling, and she couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Mia.”

A voice startled her. A man her age stepped up in a sheriff’s uniform and clasped her hands. “Do you remember me? Pax Sullivan, from racing.”

She studied him, wavy sun-kissed hair, green eyes, dimples, and a southern accent. A smile broke out on her face. “Raleigh’s best friend. The one he saved from the psycho pelican.”

He tilted his head back and let out a mock groan of frustration. “I will never outgrow that episode.” Then he gave her a serious look. “I had it under control, I swear. The danged thing was an unruly teenager, just wanted my bait fish and had no manners, is all.” He flashed her the easy smile she remembered well. “He was about as tall as I was. I suppose I looked like I needed rescuing.”

She opened her arms in an invitation. He stepped close to give her a hug, his lean but muscular body hard against hers. Pax had been the daring, loud, rambunctious opposite of Raleigh’s quieter nature. Despite that—or maybe because of it—the two were as close as brothers. They were always talking about chipping this car, or installing some kit, things she hadn’t understood. They’d given each other advice on race night and set up their so-called pit areas together.

He released her, and she touched the stiff material of his collar. “A cop, huh? Never would have expected that.”

Pax lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Time to grow up, I suppose.”

It seemed a shame for someone like Pax to grow up. “Thank you for coming. It’s good to see you.” And she meant that. She’d always had a soft spot for Pax. Like her, he’d seized life, though probably for different reasons.

His eyes searched her face. “It’s good to see you, too. I’m glad you’re all right.”

Only on the surface. You should see me in the morning.

But he wouldn’t. No one had seen her first thing since that last day of normalcy. When Raleigh had roused her from where she lay in his arms, naked and warm. He’d kissed her, rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, and said, “I’d better get you back before your parents wake up.” Then he’d buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and groaned. “I