Page 120 of When In Doubt

“I’ll risk it.” He unlocks the padlock on the shed he stores the fireworks in and starts to unpack what we need for the display.

“I’ll be sure to fake some tears at your funeral.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re going to be crying so hard you’ll throw up on the casket.”

I scoff, following him as he starts to place the rockets into the ground. “Why would I be there if I’m the one who killed you?”

He looks up at me like I’m stupid. “To throw the cops off your scent.”

“Just lay your damn fireworks.”

We get everything going in about twenty minutes. Mack’s roped me into helping with enough of these that we’re a well-oiled machine, and I swipe my arm over my forehead as I take in our handiwork.

“I got it from here,” he says as he places the final fuse. “Get back to your girl.”

I nod, pulling off the gloves I’ve been wearing. “Have fun, you pyromaniac.”

“I always do.” He waggles his eyebrows, and if the area chief could see him now, he’d probably get pulled in for some kind of evaluation. But, I suppose, after all the havoc that we see wreaked by fire, it’s nice to know it can also create something beautiful.

I turn back to where I left Freya, but she’s not there. Oh shit. Did she go? It takes me a second to pick her out of the crowd, lingering by the glass back doors with her hands fisted in the pockets of her coat.

My heart gives a little kick when she looks up and catches my eye. Like it’s saying, this is it, go get it. I knock into someone as I move toward her, but I hardly notice, not when she’s giving me one of those shy smiles that I’ve been hoarding.

Kissing her isn’t my plan, but the plan goes out the window as soon as she’s within arm’s length. I reach up to cup her face and dip low until I can feel the ghost of her breath on my lips. She closes the gap, sealing our mouths together.

At the sound of the first explosion, we jolt apart, both gasping. Freya’s face glows an iridescent blue as the firework illuminates the sky in color. I trace the bow of her lips with my finger, happy to ignore whatever’s going on behind me. I only turn to look when Freya peers over my shoulder and I realize that I’m blocking her view.

I pull her against me, her back to my front, and loop my arms around her as we watch the display. Her head falls against my shoulder and a few strands of her hair tickle my cheek, caught on the breeze.

I think back to all the times I told my mom that Freya Malcolm was the prettiest girl in the whole world. I was definitely on to something.

Several more fireworks go off, each one met with a cheer from the crowd. I see Joni holding a squirming Birdie as the toddler tries to get closer to where her dad’s setting them off, one by one.

Freya gives a sharp inhale when a particularly large one goes off, and I feel her flinch slightly against me. “You okay, honey?” I ask against her temple. She nods, but when the next one explodes, she flinches again.

“You wanna watch from inside?”

“I’m fine, I promise.” She tips her head up toward me with an unconvincing smile. “Maybe if we…” she says to herself as she shuffles in my grip, turning until we’re facing one another. She presses the side of her face against my chest and it takes me a second to catch on. When I don’t get there fast enough, she takes hold of my hand and brings it up until it’s covering her other ear.

Oh.

Following her lead I tuck her against me, one ear muffled by the thick fabric of my jacket and my hand over the other. “Better?”

She doesn’t reply, but settles deeper into my hold, snaking a hand inside my jacket and resting it on my ribs.

The show continues, but it’s hard to look away from her, even as the sky explodes into a thousand colors overhead. Not when each second brings a different shade to the glow of her hair.

I want to keep her here forever, I want her with me always. We haven’t been together long, but I know what this is. Maybe I’ve always known. I think back to the night last week when I took her back to her apartment. Being with Freya like that… It remade me. As long as I live, that night will be a defining point in my life, splitting it into Before Freya, and After.

She looks up at me, seeing me staring. “What?” She giggles.

“Nothing.” I drop a kiss to the top of her head. “Watch the show.”

She looks back up, but when her eyes flick toward me, she catches me again. “You’re not watching,” she huffs in mock affront.

“I’m doing just fine.”

She rolls her eyes and looks away again.