Page 4 of She's Got that Fire

He chuckles deeply, then drops my hand to slip his fingers into the back of my hair. "Meanwhile I’m here with a gorgeous photographer. Or videographer. What exactly is it that you do?"

Usually I'm excited to tell people about my work. Why am I suddenly shy to tell Liam? Maybe because he's such a steady, solid guy, and he might think my projects are a bit flaky. Worse, alotflaky. Or worst, totally unsafe.

"It started out as a project for school, but now it's kind of taken over my life," I start, laughing. "Everyone knows how hypnotic fire is. It's used in all kinds of movies, commercials, and art pieces. But these days most people use CGI or overlay stock footage."

Liam smiles. "Well, that’s the safe way to do it."

"Yyyyyeah… But there are some ideas that I have in my head and I just want to create the finished product myself. It’s like the creative process ispartof my message, you understand? I like to play with the technical side. The height and intensity of the flames. How thick the smoke is, and what color."

He's nodding, and doesn't look angry, so that's a good start. "Colored flames and smoke… Like when people pour those little chemical packs into their campfires to get rainbows?" he asks.

"Exactly! Different compounds burn with different tints, I’m sure you know that. Well, if you're shooting a bright red energy drink can, you might want the flames in the background more blue-red, and the flames in front more orange-yellow-red for contrast and depth."

"Layered flames. Designer smoke." He reaches out to gently squeeze my hand again. "Wow. I have to say, as long as you're being unbelievably careful, that sounds fascinating."

A wave of relief runs through me that he's not immediately telling me to knock it off. "There are some other things I'mlearning that look super cool. Like having a fragment of flame follow my finger from one miniature campfire to another." His eyes grow wide until I add quickly, "It's a trick! My finger isn't within an inch of the flame. I promise."

The pressure of his palm on my back makes me slide an inch closer. "I'll feel a lot better once I take a look." His low voice sends shivers through me. "I want to be extra sure that you're staying safe, Opal."

His eyes. His sincerity. Everything about him makes me crave so much more. His thumb moves gently across the side of my hand, caressing slowly. What's going to happen when I bring him to my apartment to look at my setup and we're alone?

Every single detail about Liam pulls me closer. I want all of him. To breathe in his autumn leaf scent and beg him to touch me everywhere. These feelings are all consuming, and I've never experienced anything like them.

But what if he thinks I'm doing something unsafely, and decides I'm a psycho little pyromaniac? Will he no longer be interested?

3

LIAM

Opal is positively mesmerizing. Like the stone she's named after, she’s painted in shifting, iridescent colors. Every time she twists in the light, I see something new.

Something clicks in the back of my mind. "Have you ever heard of the fire opal?"

Her head tips back as she laughs, making me want to kiss along the hollow of her throat. The urge is so strong that I signal for the check, desperate to get her alone.

"Yes. Mom says that's why I became obsessed with fire. They bought me a fire opal charm on my sixteenth birthday. See?"

She holds out her necklace, which I use as an excuse to lean in very close, examining every tiny freckle and eyelash as much as the shimmering flame-like orange stone.

"Beautiful." I'm not looking at the necklace anymore. It's impossible to tear my eyes from her lips. Moving closer, I let my mouth drift past her ear. "Are you aware that if this place wasn't so loud and bright and filled with people, I would be kissing you?" Her breath catches and her teeth nibble at her bottom lip. Then she slowly nods. We're on the same page, thank god. "May I walk you home?"

Her smile is slow and dreamy, like a sunrise. "Yes."

We stroll hand in hand past the downtown and along a couple of side streets until we reach a pale yellow house. "I'm living in the basement apartment with my cousin Angie," Opal says. "The house is owned by friends of her mom – my Aunt Christy. They don't use the backyard or garage, so we can do whatever we like back there. I do my art."

We approach the side entrance that goes to her apartment, and I keep walking to the back. The streetlights don't reach this far, but I can still spot a couple of things I don’t like. "The garage is very close to that wooden fence," I point out. "And the neighbor's shed is old, rotten wood."

"Have I mentioned how careful I am?" She looks up at me through her lashes in the near darkness.

"I really insist on coming by to take a better look in the daylight."

"Honestly, I don't want to bother you."

I clasp her hand to my chest, shaking my head. "I'll be more bothered if you don't. Seriously. I'll lie awake all night, and instead of picturing your gorgeous eyes, I'll be worrying about you."

Her plush bottom lip wobbles. "R-really?"

My thumb runs softly against her lower lip, as my other hand cautiously grazes her hip, pulling us closer. "Opal, I think you are fascinating. Beautiful. Clever." My eyebrow raises. "Hopefullynot a pyromaniac…"

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