Fireworks (True North, #6)

by Sarina Bowen

Are you going to be okay?” “I always am,” Skye replies. But she won’t look me in the eye.

My Skye is a study in contrasts. She’s reluctant and yet passionate. Shy, yet also hungry.

I wonder how long it will take me to stop wondering if each time I see her might be my last.

I didn’t know that you could be angry with someone and still wish he was naked on top of you.

Zara straightens up in surprise. “You didn’t drive up here to see Benito?” “Not exactly,”

“I haven’t ever seen the video, because I didn’t want to relive it. But Dave still has nightmares about it.”

“I didn’t hit Zara’s car, okay? Sparks did that.

“We were both in the truck.” “Why?” “Because of sex, Skye.

“You can curse, you know. When people are trying to kill me, you can say fuck.”

I’d ask you if he’s good in bed, but we’ll have to catch up some other time, because I’m running for my life, here. Later.”

she’s still too afraid to raise the camera and make herself noticeable. So the angle will prove to be awkward. But even so, it will prove be valuable. It will eventually convince a judge that Gage came unhinged. A month from now, all the charges will be dropped.

her brother gave Zara one instruction. “Tell Skye I’m sorry.”

Zara was left alone at the side of the road with a sobbing Jill, who was still holding a corsage box meant for someone else.

“Why didn’t you call your mother? Or your uncle? Or just pay the damned ticket!” Zara doesn’t explain that Gage didn’t want ticket money.

Skye is sitting on her tiny front stoop, looking amazing in a sleek dress. She looks like a supermodel waiting patiently between takes at a cover shoot. Zara is filled with horror. She’s supposed to be the one who breaks Skye’s heart by telling her what happened?

Gage step out of the cruiser. Whatever he says to Skye makes her stand up fast. “No!” she yelps. He laughs. And it’s the cruelest sound that Zara has ever heard.

But at least she doesn’t have to break the news to Skye herself. It’s done. Benito can give his own apology in the morning.

I know you have a boner for indicting Sparks and Gage.”

Zara: Skye and I are going shopping in Burlington. She wants to pick up a few things because she didn’t intend to stay this long.

Zara: I’m going to get her drunk for old time’s sake. Me: Don’t you dare! Zara: **Insert evil laughter**

Skye looks amazing in my kitchen. I’ll keep that thought to myself because it might come out sounding sexist. But nobody ever cooks for me except my mom on Sundays.

I’m ashamed to say that this final detail brings out my inner caveman—she’s wearing one of my flannel shirts over the whole ensemble.

getting close to Skye is one of my two life goals. The other one is seeing Jimmy Gage go to jail.

Everything is bliss. There’s good food, and Skye is telling me what’s on her mind. There are people who would mock me for saying I fell for Skye in one afternoon when I was eighteen. But that one afternoon was followed by hundreds of hours of talking in the woods.

I’ve missed her so much. I love her wry view of the world, her practical nature, and the soft glances she gives me when she thinks I’m not looking.

“I remember every single thing you ever confided in me.” She gives me one of those soft looks that I like so much.

“We have some business to attend to.” “Business?” “Naked business.”

“I’ve never showered with anyone else before.” This makes me irrationally happy.

I missed out on twelve years with my girl, and I don’t want to miss another second.

“Spread your legs wider. That’s my dirty girl.” And Skye freezes.

I raise a hand to push the wet hair out of her face, and she actually flinches. Oh, shit.

Only one thought rings through my brain: I’m going to kill Gage. That motherfucker is a dead man.

That’s twice now. I sink down on the edge of the bed, Ben’s towel wrapped tightly around me. And I wonder—how many times can I ruin sexytimes before he decides I’m not worth the trouble?

He turns to meet my gaze, and I just blink at him. Because of course he’s mad at me. Who else is there to be mad at?

I don’t have to be so sensitive.” His expression gets even sadder. “You’re not, Skye. Someone taught you to feel shame. And I could fucking kill that guy.

“We can still, um…” I clear my throat. He chuckles, and I feel his abs tighten with the motion. “Someday I want you to enjoy finishing that sentence. But today doesn’t have to be that day.”

“She said that sexual experience is supposed to be like a room that’s yours to decorate however you want to. Without anybody else’s interference.”

You didn’t even get a chance. Gage beat you to it. He busted open your safe space and flipped over the furniture and smeared shit on the walls.”

I don’t actually know how to help you. Or if you need help. But I can be infinitely patient. If I say anything you don’t like, just tell me. I won’t be offended.”

He’s touching my feet, and I swear I feel turned on from it. The feet? Really?

“Honey, someday I hope you can say it.” He pitches his voice high in a poor imitation of me. “Ben, please come here for dirty, naked loving.”

“It’s okay with me if you never like the word ‘dirty.’ I just hope you can ask for what you need and not feel any shame.”

“Okay, when I think dirty thoughts about you, I really mean that they’re raw. Unfiltered. And when I use that word in bed I mean…unguarded. Whatever crazy thing I want is just for the two of us. It’s not bad, it’s just not fit for anyone else’s eyes. Just yours.”

If there really is a private sex room in my soul, Benito has a standing invitation.

I’m still a little stunned that she’s here. It’s almost like having an extended dream. Waking up beside her doesn’t even feel real.

My place is your place. Make yourself at home. Love you, B.

Now, after I’ve been here less than a week, Benito is whipping out the L-word. It’s possible that word doesn’t mean to him what it means to me.

Beside the note is his gift—a single key to his apartment. It has the shiny finish of a key that’s just been cut, and it’s on a key chain that I think is meant to amuse me. It’s a plastic cut-out of Vermont, and it’s printed with “I love Vermont.” Somebody is a funny guy.

“When is the wedding?” “Jenny!”

“Benito is a great guy. Seeing him again will give me some…closure.” My voice actually cracks on that last word because I’m actually thinking orgasms as I say it.