Fireworks (True North, #6)

by Sarina Bowen

When the caller teaches us the “gypsy and swing,” he says that we’re supposed to stare into each other’s eyes. Like that’s a hardship. Hell, I practically fall in headlong every time I look at her.

“You know,” I whisper to Skye as we promenade, “my mother fell for my father at a dance. And then quickly had five children.”

“Must be hard to do this with your tongue hanging out like that.”

So it’s official—I’m the least subtle person in the room.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Roderick says to Skye.

Roderick’s forehead wrinkles. “Actually, you remind me of this girl I saw on YouTube.” “Here we go…” Skye says under her breath.

Skye turns to me. “Do me a favor? Don’t Google it.” “Okay,” I say immediately.

“Let’s check out the dessert offerings, shall we?” I ask, standing up suddenly. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed.

“I won’t watch,” I promise her. She stops. “Really?” “You asked me not to. So I won’t.”

“I just don’t want to let you go. You’ve been giving me the ‘fuck me’ eyes all night, and I like it.”

when she raises those pretty eyes to mine, I can tell she’s plotting to remove every item of my clothing. With her teeth.

God, this woman could rip my heart in half again. I know it and I don’t even care.

Unless I’m crazy, I’m finally about to do something I’ve craved my whole life.

And when he drives his bike to school every morning—with Skye seated behind him—the wind smells green. Her embrace makes him feel crazy.

Worst of all will be leaving Skye behind. He can’t think about it without feeling a dull ache right behind his breastbone. Skye’s not even seventeen. She has two years of high school left. Jimmy Gage shows no signs of letting up on her. And he’s untouchable. How can Benito just get on a bus and leave her here?

“Are you thinking of staying past the summer?” he asks carefully. “Maybe,” she says immediately. “Unless I really feel like I’m underfoot. Aunt Jenny will let me, especially when I tell her how, um, bad it really is.” And it is bad.

“Will you go to grad prom with me?”

He wants her safe with Aunt Jenny in New York, but he’ll be damned if he lets her leave without telling her how he really feels.

He reaches over and grabs her hand, intending to give it a friendly squeeze. But the power of first love intervenes. Without even thinking, he tugs her closer and finally brushes a kiss across her soft mouth. It’s the most natural thing in the world.

He walks away through the trees. And he doesn’t look back so that she won’t see how big he’s smiling.

I love him, if we’re being honest.

Until now, sex was always something that was done to me.

I’m naked with the only man I’ve ever loved.

I like that he’s in charge. Trusting Benito has always been easy for me.

“My main goal is to make you feel good. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”

“Because when you look at me the way you’re looking at me right now, I feel like a superhero.”

I’ve never felt so safe and loved as I do right now.

That’s when it happens. Fire and color and trembling release. It’s bright and pure and a long time coming. So to speak.

“I loved you, though.

All this time I’ve been blaming Benito for standing me up for a stupid date. But he was there for me a hundred other times when I’d needed him.

All I ever wanted you to do was stick around.” Oh, man. “But I can’t promise that.”

my lady bits wake up again and say, Woo-hoo! We love sexytimes! Because apparently I do. I’m not broken, after all.

Zara can’t see how beautiful she is. She doesn’t know that eighteen is stunning in its own right, or that her shining dark hair and olive skin make her glow with a beauty that doesn’t need designer labels.

All anyone can talk about is Benito’s date. He asked her to grad prom. After a whole year of telling people that they’re just friends, he up and announces that she’s his date.

He might still be at the florist picking up the corsage he bought for Skye, or maybe he’s back already, and they’re off somewhere staring into each other’s eyes like they do.

Zara is known for her smart mouth. Her family says she has the sharpest tongue in Vermont. But not when Gage talks to her like that. She knows she should argue, but she trembles instead.

Benito walks up to Jill and hands her the box. “Here, honey. Hold this for me.” His hands are free. He stands between Zara and Jill and flexes his fingers. He doesn’t say a word, though. He just lifts his chin and looks right at Gage.

“I heard you enlisted,” Gage says. “Sad to hear you’re leaving the neighborhood. After you go it will be just me and Skylar all alone in the house together. Won’t that be fun?” Then he laughs. Benito’s fist flies through the air and into Gage’s nose.

I’m here…” “Having really good sex with someone who loves you?”

I loved you from the first day I met you. That’s never going away.”

“You go in there with sex hair and buy two of everything and the whole town will know we stayed up all night.” I chuckle, because that sounds about right. And I really don’t see the problem.

I let out an unmanly groan of longing. She doesn’t even break her stride.

I must look perky in spite of my lack of sleep, because my sister takes one look at us and bursts out laughing. “Wow,” she says. “I was going to ask why you two disappeared early last night, but maybe I won’t bother. Coffee?”

Skye has already claimed the same sofa where we sat last time. It’s our spot, my subconscious suggests. If only. Skye still doesn’t expect to stick around.

There’s no way I’m letting Skye walk out of my life a second time. It’s not happening.

My sister is making the effort of the century, but Skye doesn’t trust it.

The look she gives me is full of heat and challenge. I’m so fucked. I just want to kiss that smug expression off her pretty face.

I have a camera on Gage’s fishing cabin there. But I don’t think Skye knows about that place. “Jimmy Gage has a fishing cabin up there,” she says. Fuck.

Now, there are lots of ways to figure out if Rayanne owns the same model of truck that nearly hit Zara’s car in the Gin Mill parking lot.

My other realization, though, gives me the cold sweats. This is how I lose Skye again. It won’t be her job or the two-hundred-fifty miles between our homes that takes her away from me again. If I lock up her only (sort-of) sibling, she’ll leave me forever.