Chapter 3

The ride back was quieter.

Not the sharp, irritated silence from before-but something heavier.

Thicker.

Mia sat with her elbow resting against the window, eyes fixed on the passing fields, though she wasn’t really seeing them.

She could still feel it.

The moment.

The way he’d stepped closer.

The way his voice had dropped.

The way her heart had… reacted.

It annoyed her. More than anything else so far, it annoyed her.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

Mia blinked, turning her head. “Excuse me?”

Lane kept his eyes on the road. “You do this thing-where you go quiet, but your face says everything anyway.”

She frowned. “My face does not-,”

“It does.”

Mia crossed her arms. “And what exactly is it saying right now?”

“That you’re confused.”

Her stomach tightened. “I’m not confused.”

He glanced at her briefly, one brow lifting like he didn’t believe her for a second. “Sure.”

Mia turned back to the window. “You don’t know me.”

“Didn’t say I did.”

“Then stop acting like you do.”

The Ute slowed slightly as they neared the house, gravel crunching beneath the tyres.

Then-

“You’re not as sure of yourself as you pretend to be.”

Mia’s head snapped back toward him. “Wow,” she said flatly. “You really just say whatever you want, don’t you?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I don’t have to,” he said. “You show it.”

The car stopped.

Silence dropped between them again-but this time it felt sharper.

Mia reached for the door handle, shoved it open. “I’m done with this conversation.” She stepped out before he could reply, slamming the door behind her.

The heat hit her instantly, but she barely noticed as she made her way towards the house.

“Running away already?”

She stopped.

Of course.

Slowly, Mia turned back. “I’m not running,” she said. “I’m choosing not to stand here while you analyse me like you’ve got nothing better to do.”

Lane leaned casually against the Ute, completely unbothered.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Mia let out a sharp breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re predictable.”

That did it.

Mia took a few steps back toward him, closing the distance just enough.

“You know what your problem is?” She snapped.

He tilted his head slightly. “Go on.”

“You think because you’ve lived your whole life in one place, doing the same thing every day, that you’ve got everything figured out.”

His expression didn’t change-but something in his eyes did.

Darker.

Quieter.

“And you think just because you came from the city, you’re better than it,” he shot back.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Mia hesitated. Just for a second, and he noticed.

“You look at this place like it’s a punishment,” he continued. “Like being here is the worst thing that could happen to you.”

“Because right now?” she said, her voice tightening. “It kind of is.”

There it was.

The line.

The one that landed.

Lane’s jaw shifted slightly, his gaze hardening-not angry, but not amused anymore either.

“Then leave.”

Mia blinked. “What?”

“If it’s so bad,” he said, pushing off the Ute, “No one’s stopping you.”

Her chest tightened. “You know I can’t just-,”

“Why not?” he cut in. “You’re eighteen. You said it yourself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Mia opened her mouth-and stopped.

Because the truth?

The truth was messy.

And frustrating.

And not something she wanted to say out loud.

Lane watched her closely, like he was waiting. Like he knew there was more.

Mia looked away first.

“Exactly,” he said quietly.

Something about that-about him thinking he’d won, or figured her out, or whatever this was-sent a fresh wave of frustration through her.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Then tell me.”

The words caught her off guard.

She looked back at him.

He wasn’t smirking.

Wasn’t pushing.

Just… there.

Waiting.

And for a split second, Mia almost did.

Almost told him about the fights. The pressure. The reason her mum had really sent her out here.

But instead-

She shook her head.

“Not a chance.”

Something unreadable flickered across his face.

Then it was gone.

“Yeah.” He spoke. “Didn’t think so.”

Mia stepped back. “Good,’ she replied. “Because I’m not here to make friends.”

Lane let out a quiet breath, almost like a laugh, but without the humour. “Trust me,” he said. “Wasn’t worried about that.”

The words hit harder than she expected.

Mia turned quickly, heading for the house again before he could see it.

This time, he didn’t call after her.

Inside, the cool air wrapped around her, but it didn’t help.

Her chest still felt tight.

Her thoughts louder than before.

“He, how’d it go?” Cindy asked from the kitchen, drying her hands.

Mia forced a neutral expression. “Fine.”

Cindy raised a brow slightly. “Just fine?”

“Yep.”

A pause.

Then, gently, “Lane can be a bit… strong sometimes.”

Mia let out a short breath. “That’s one way to put it.”

Cindy smiled softly. “He’s a good person, Mia.”

Mia glanced toward the window, where she could just see Lane still outside, moving as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’m starting to notice.”

But she wasn’t sure yet if that made things better-

Or worse.

Later that night, Mia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet again.

Not the suffocating silence from before. Just… still.

Her mind replayed the day, whether she liked it or not.

The argument.

The tension.

The way he looked at her, like he saw more than she wanted him to.

Mia turned onto her side, pulling the blanket up slightly. This was temporary. She’s staying. She’d prove her point. And then, she’d leave.

Simple.

Except-

Her thoughts betrayed her again. That moment in the field. The way he’d stepped closer. The way she hadn’t moved.

Mia exhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. “Not happening,” she muttered to herself.

But her brain did listen. Because it wasn’t just the argument replaying anymore. It was everything in between. The way he’d said you haven’t even tried, not like an insult, but like a fact. The way he worked, quiet and focused, like the land made sense to him in a way it didn’t to her.

The way he’d told her to hold the wire without hesitation, like he expected she could do it, even when she clearly had no idea what she was doing.

And worse-

The way she hadn’t completely hated it.

Mia groaned under her breath and turned onto her other side, shoving her face halfway into the pillow like she could physically block the thoughts out.

It didn’t work.

After a few more minutes of restless shifting, she gave up.

Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her phone out of habit.

Still no signal.

“Of course,” she muttered.

She set it down again and stood, pacing the small room once before her gaze drifted to the window.

The curtain moved slightly with the breeze.

Mia hesitated. Then stepped closer, pulling it aside.

The property was darker than before, deeper into the night now, but not completely empty. The moon had risen higher, casting a faint silver flow across the land, softening the edges of everything.

It was… quieter than the city.

But not dead.

She could hear it now, if she actually listened.

The faint rustle of wind through the grass. Something distant, low, steady. Cattle, maybe.

A creek from somewhere near the house.

Mia leaned her shoulder lightly against the window frame.

You hear that?

Her brow furrowed slightly.

“… I hear it,” she murmured.

It wasn’t nothing.

It just wasn’t loud.

And for some reason, that made it feel… bigger.

Mia stayed there longer than she meant to. Long enough that her thoughts slowed, just slightly. Long enough that the tightness in her chest eased into something she couldn’t quite name.

Not comfort.

Not yet.

But not resistance either.

A small shift.

Barely there. Still-there.

She let the curtain fall back into place and turned away.

Morning came too quickly.

A knock at the door-light, but persistent, dragged her out of sleep.

“Mia?” Cindy’s voice. “You up, sweetheart?”

Mia groaned into her pillow. “No.”

A soft laugh from the other side. “Well, you should be.”

Mia cracked one eye open, squinting at the light already creeping through the edges of the curtain.

Five.

Right.

She pushed herself up slowly, every part of her resisting. “I’m up,” she called, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Goof! Breakfast is ready.”

Footsteps faded down the hall.

Mia sat there for a moment, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded, already regretting every life decision that had led her here.

Then-

She remembered.

The bet.

The look on Lane’s face. That quiet certainty. Mia exhaled sharply and swung her legs out of the bed. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’m up.”

She was halfway down the stairs when she heard them.

Cindy, moving around the kitchen.

And Lane. Already there. Of course he was.

Mia slowed slightly, hand brushing the railing as she descended the last few steps. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday, since everything, and she hated the way her stomach did that small, stupid shift at the thought of it.

Annoying.

She stepped into the kitchen like nothing had changed.

“Morning.”

Cindy turned with a bright smile. “Good morning! I wasn’t sure you’d make it up this early.”

Mia reached for a glass. “Neither was I.”

Lane stood near the counter, mug in hand, leaning back slightly. His eyes flicked to her-brief, assessing.

Not lingering.

Not avoiding.

Just… noticing.

“Made it,” he said simply.

Mia poured herself some water. “Barely.”

A small pause.

Then Cindy clapped her hands lightly.

“Alright, eat something before it gets cold.”

Mia slid into a chair, glancing at the plate in front of her-eggs, toast, something that smelled better than she wanted to admit.

Lane sat across from her.

Of course he did.

The silence that followed wasn’t the same as yesterday's.

It wasn’t sharp.

Wasn’t loaded with open irritation.

But it wasn’t easy either. More… aware.

Like both of them knew exactly where things had been left-and neither of them were quite ready to pick it back up. Cindy filled the space again, talking about the day ahead, about small jobs around the property, about nothing and everything all at once.

Mia listened, half-present, taking small bites just to avoid being questioned.

Across from her, Lane ate like he always did, this-quick, efficient, no wasted movement.

At one point, Mia glanced up. He was already looking at her. Their eyes met for a second too long.

Not hostile.

Not friendly.

Just… something in between.

Mia looked away first, reaching for her glass.

“After breakfast,” Cidy said, “I thought Mia could help with the animals.”

Mia blinked. “The animals?”

Lane didn’t react outwardly, but she caught the smallest shift in his posture.

“Just feeding, checking water,” Cindy added. “Nothing too difficult.”

Mia hesitated. “Right.”

A beat.

Then Lane set his fork down. “I’ll take her,” he said.

Mia looked up, surprised.

Cindy smiled, clearly pleased. “That would be great.”

Mia narrowed her eyes slightly. “I can manage-,”

“You’ll need to know where things are,” Lane cut in, not looking at her this time.

Matter-of-fact.

Not dismissive.

Just… practical.

Mia pressed her lips together. “…Fine.”

Lane nodded once, like that settled it. And somehow, that felt different too.

Less like a challenge.

More like something they were both, quietly, stepping into.

Mia glanced down at her plate again, but her focus had shifted.

Because this-whatever this was between them-

Wasn’t tension anymore. It was changing. Slowly. Subtly. And whether she liked it or not, she was changing with it.