Page 76 of The Clinch
Nothing.
18
LONG FUSE (LIZ)
By the time we get back from Atlantique, the sky has gone pink and gold and the whole house smells like charcoal and lighter fluid. Everyone is in motion—food, blankets, coolers, the easy choreography of people who’ve done this before.
Adam spots us first and grins. “There they are. Thought you two got lost.”
Our hands are still linked.
“Got distracted,” Leo says easily.
Adam clocks our joined hands immediately, because of course he does.
“Fireworks start in an hour,” Nate calls.
Eden points toward the beach. “Grab a shower, then come celebrate.”
Leo looks at me. “You said you wouldn’t miss it.”
“I did say that.” My mouth curves. “Guess I’m committed now.”
“Good. Take the outdoor shower first. I’ll bring towels.”
My body starts making plans without consulting the rest of me.
The bonfire catches fast.Flames climb. Smoke threads through the salt air. Everyone settles in around it with drinks and blankets and the loose, familiar noise of a holiday night.
What I can’t ignore is Leo.
He spreads a blanket on the sand, far enough from the fire to see the water, close enough to feel its warmth. Then he sits and looks at me as if he has all the time in the world.
I hover at the edge of the blanket, fully aware this is a bad idea and already too far in to stop it. Then I sit down in front of him. My choice shocks me enough that I almost laugh.
Leo doesn’t move. The silence behind me feels deliberate. I glance over my shoulder. He answers with stillness.
So I shift back. One inch. Then another.
“Can I?” I mean it to sound playful. It scrapes on the way out.
His mouth twitches. He angles his knees to make space.
I slide back until my shoulders rest against his chest.
Every place I touch him registers at once. Leo inhales, controlled. His hands settle at my waist over the hoodie—light at first, then a fraction firmer when my body gives up pretending it doesn’t want this.
From a distance, we look exactly right. A couple on a blanket, waiting for fireworks. Under the surface, I’m coming apart by degrees.
“Comfortable?” Low. Almost amused.
“Very,” I manage, barely a whisper.
The sky deepens. The fire pops. Someone passes beers down the line. I take one and hold it like it gives my hands something innocent to do.
Minutes go by.
Leo’s knees stay warm at my hips. His chest stays even at my back. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t close in.
