Page 48 of Sparks Fly

I felt that everywhere.

Fuck, this girl is going to actually kill me.

Me: Have fun tonight. Text me when you’re back? Even if it’s late.

Another pause followed before the next message appeared.

Addison: I will. Promise. Have a good night, Sawyer.

Me: You too, Addison.

I headed back to my workshop for a bit. Time slipped in the way it always did once I started working. Grinding, measuring, welding, and watching sparks fly gave my hands something to focus on while my brain sorted through everything else.

As I worked, my mind wandered somewhere I usually tried not to let it go.

My sister.

Aiden died when she was seventeen and I was fifteen. One minute she had been laughing loudly about something stupid, and the next she was gone. After that nothing in my house ever sounded the same. My parents didn’t shut down on purpose, but grief hollowed them out and left them quiet in a way that made the whole house feel empty.

Poppa was the one who saved me. He started taking me to his welding shop after school every day. He didn’t ask questions and he didn’t try to fix anything. He just handed me goggles and told me to watch my hands. He taught me how to work metal, how to control heat, and how to take something dangerous and shape it into something solid. Somewhere between the sparks and the noise, I fell in love with it.

It still works the same way now. Whenever things get too big, whether it’s joy, fear, or want, I come here and pour it into steel. Steel can take it. Steel doesn’t leave.

Eventually I shut the welder off and stepped back from the bench. My breathing slowed and my shoulders had loosened. The piece sitting on the bench looked cleaner now, stronger. I pulled off my gloves and leaned back against the table for a moment before reaching for my phone again. There were no new messages yet. She was probably in a dress somewhere, laughing with her friends and looking beautiful without even trying.

That part didn’t scare me. What scared me was how much I wanted to be the place she came back to when the night was over.

* * *

16

Addison

I’d spent most of the afternoon pretending to work.

I answered emails, reviewed a client contract, drafted responses I never sent, and stared at my inbox long enough for the words to blur together.

By six o’clock, I’d gotten through a respectable amount of work and spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about a woman I’d only been seeing for a few weeks.

I met the bridal party at an upscale wine bar tucked into a side street downtown.

“Addison!” Lilly called as she waved me over with an excited smile. “We ordered that flatbread you love, and they have the Spanish white you were obsessed with.”

“Perfect,” I replied while sliding into the booth beside her.

Natalie set her glass down with a soft clink and looked at me curiously. “So,” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “how’s Jason?”

The question landed harder than I expected, and my fingers tightened around the stem of my wineglass.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” I said, keeping my voice even.

A brief, pointed silence followed.

“What?” Caroline frowned. “But he was perfect for you.”

“Yeah,” Natalie added. “Stable, successful, wanted the same things. You two had a plan.”

I forced a small smile. “Sometimes perfect on paper isn’t enough.”