Page 62 of Wildfire
“There’s something about Honey Acres that makes me feel good,” she says quietly. “It feels so fragile right now, but I’m starting to remember what I like about myself. I want to make choices that make me happy. And I’m scared that when I go back to Maple Hills, I won’t want to try so hard anymore. That I’ll be surrounded by so much external noise I’ll forget this feeling.”
“I won’t let you forget, don’t worry.” My words hang in the air between us like question marks, because neither of us has mentioned that when the summer is over, we’ll be heading back to the same place. I spent two years at college before meeting her, so it’s not unreasonable to think I could do another two without seeing her since the college is so big.
Aurora rolls onto her stomach, arms tucked under her head, her hip pressed up against me. Her touch makes me feel settled, a feeling I can’t say I’m used to. It’s familiar and safe, like there’s an unspoken agreement between us as her skin presses into mine. We ease into a natural silence, something becoming common between the two of us, where I don’t question it and she doesn’t fill it, and for the second time, I drift off to sleep beside her.
THE TREES HAVE CREATED SHADEover me when I wake up sometime later alone.
Alone.
My heart sinks, skin prickling uncomfortably as I stare at the empty spot beside me. I want to be surprised, but deep down I’ve been preparing for this moment for weeks. The moment where I gotoo far, share too much, and it’s too much to handle. I can’t be mad at her for running, when I knew this would happen if I opened up to someone.
I push myself up from the blanket, and the second my head rises I spot her, floating on her back in the water, and my heart doesn’t know what to do. I think I’ve given it whiplash from how fucking quickly I’m flitting from despair to happiness.
I’m such a dick.
I’m six feet away when the water ripples let her know I’m there and she stops floating. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she says softly, gazing at me. Gently gripping her waist, I pull her closer, feeling better when she instantly wraps her arms and legs around me the way I want her to. “You look sad. What’s wrong?”
I bury my face into her neck, letting my arms wrap around her, breathing in the smell of peach and sunblock. “I thought you’d left.”
She tightens her hold. “I’m sorry, I needed to cool down. Are you okay?”
I nod, loosening my grip on her so she can lean back to look at me. Her hand brushes my hair from my face and my eyes flick to her lips. “You don’t need to apologize. I thought I’d finally scared you away. I overreacted; I’m fine.”
“I might not have the exact same circumstances, but I can relate to your feelings, Russ,” she says carefully, running her fingers across my temple and down to my jaw. “I know how it feels expecting more from someone who lets you down. You’re not going to scare me with your feelings or your experiences, I promise. I know it’s not going to undo the other stuff, but I’m choosing to be here, and nothing you say to me is going to make me change my mind.”
I swallow as her fingers skim down my neck and along my collarbone. “Thank you.”
The moment of panic and relief has passed, but I still don’t want to let her go. We work like this, just the two of us away from everyoneelse. Where she wants to be wanted and I want to be put first. Where we both ignore the reality that her closeness to me is through forced proximity and under normal circumstances this wouldn’t be happening.
Her stomach brushes mine as she sighs deeply, her teeth sinking into her lip while she works out what to say. “Being vulnerable is scary. Sharing the things you think no one else will understand is scary. But if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s ignoring all the normal signals to stop talking. I can teach you, but I’ve got to be honest, it’s a lot easier drunk.”
“I don’t think us being drunk together is a good idea. I actually don’t really drink. The party was an exception. I was trying to be confident and I thought it would help.” She shivers as my fingers trace her spine; her thighs squeeze around me. She pinches her lips tight and I wait for the laugh she’s fighting. “I didn’t come across as confident, did I?”
She shakes her head as she giggles. “Did you know you rub the back of your neck when you’re nervous? You do it all the time. The tips of your ears turn pink, too; it’s adorable.” I try to float away as I feel the heat rush to my face, but she doesn’t let go as she laughs, pulling me closer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Adorable,” I repeat back to her, her face inches from mine. “Like a puppy.”
Her eyes flick down, then back to mine quickly. “Adorable like a guy who isn’t a total dick to get into someone’s pants at a party.”
My face moves closer. “Nobody has ever said those words in a sentence before now.”
“I’m happy to be the first,” she whispers. “I stand by them.”
Neither of us noticed the sky begin to darken or the clouds move to block the sun, and once again, I can’t help but feel the universe is intervening as the rain begins to hit the water around us—and somehow neither one of us closes those last few inches.
Chapter TwentyAURORA
“WHAT’S A GIRL GOT TOdo to be kissed around here?” I grumble as I help Emilia load a serving tray with hot chocolate. The rain has been on and off since it started this afternoon, unusual for this time of year in California and wholly inconvenient for me, since it forced Russ and me to run back to camp. According to Alexander I-Know-Everything Smith, it’s something to do with a remnant of a tropical storm being dragged north and we’re set to have terrible weather for the next twelve hours. I hate thunder and lightning, so knowing Emilia will be watching the kids tonight and I’ll be in our cabin alone fills me with dread. Therefore, I’ve spent the past twenty minutes complaining to my entirely unbothered best friend.
“What happened to sticking to the rules, so you get to sleep peacefully at night knowing you didn’t contribute to someone getting fired?”
“I don’t think I said that.”
Her eyes narrow as she tries to intimidate me into a confession. “I know for a fact you don’t remember everything your rambling ass says, but I do. You definitely said it at least five times. I think I preferred when you were wild. I heard about it less.”
Flicking her forehead with one hand, I throw a marshmallow into my mouth with the other. Emilia can complain all she wants. I’ve liked one guy in our entire friendship; she has been single collectively for about four days in as many years, and I’ve lived through every stage of every relationship.
She owes me after I had to deal with one obsessed girl who turned out to be a drug dealer with scary friends.
