Page 116 of Sparks Fly

“I hate this trip.” I dropped it onto the bed beside her. “I don’t want to go.”

“You’ve mentioned that.”

“It’s going to be polished and perfect and curated. Everyone pretending their lives are flawless.” I curled into her side.

Her expression softened. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I know and that’s the problem.” I buried my face in the crook of her neck. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Hey.” She rubbed a slow hand over my back. “It’s only a weekend. You’ll still be you when you come home.”

“I just wish I could stay.”

Sawyer kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be right here when you get back, promise.”

“I’m going to complain the entire time.”

“I know. I’m prepared.”

I groaned but forced myself up and finished packing.

When I finally zipped the suitcase, I climbed back onto the bed and straddled her without thinking.

Sawyer’s hands settled around my waist immediately.

“Suitcase closed?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good.”

She pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. Her eyes darkened as her hands tightened around my waist.

“Come here,” she murmured.

I leaned down, my breath already shallow as the world narrowed to her hands, her mouth, and the way she looked at me like I was exactly where I belonged.

The trip could wait. For now, I was hers.

* * *

35

Addison

By the time we pulled up to the house in Charleston, I already missed Sawyer.

The flight was good. We drank champagne in first class and gossiped about things I barely cared about. Now, as the Uber turned onto a long, curved driveway, that familiar hollow feeling settled in my chest. I felt too far away from her.

The house looked exactly like it did in the photos. It had big Southern mansion energy, white columns stretching up toward a wide wraparound porch. Tall windows glowed warmly against the early evening sky, and pink balloons tied carefully to the railing in neat clusters. The decorations had been placed exactly where the rental company and I had discussed in three separate emails about color palettes and weather contingencies.

“Oh my God,” Ashley breathed from the backseat as she leaned forward between the seats. “This is unreal.”

Lilly squealed and grabbed the door handle. “Is this our house?”

Lauren already had her phone out and recording. “This is so going on my story.”

I smiled as I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the car, pretending I hadn’t personally approved every square foot of the place.