Page 2 of Fireworks Flame
“I want a jelly bean,” she called out, her voice taking on abreathy quality. She tilted her chin up, opening her mouth suggestively.
I cringed, looking to Dice without meaning to. His mouth curved the slightest bit, like he was vaguely amused but wasn’t taking the bait. Mac, on the other hand, had no such reservations. He flung one of the yellows across the ten-foot gap between us. My eyes widened as the jelly bean descended, visions of future plurals hissing through the inevitable chip in one of Simone’s perfect white teeth.Should I do something?
A sharpsnapof two fingers ricocheted through the air, and Simone’s gaze dropped instinctively toward the sound. The jelly bean pinged against her forehead so hard it traveled out and forward at least three feet before falling to the ground. Her hand went to the spot of impact, already turning a purplish red, her eyes widening in confusion. They turned glassy with unshed tears, likely from embarrassment as much as pain.
“Sorry,” Dice said, taking long strides across the grass and stopping in front of her. Up close, he smelled like an intoxicating mix of something smoky and spiced.
“You distracted me!” Simone looked down at his hand like it was evidence of a crime.
“I had to.” He reached for her forehead, brushing a thumb over the mark. Strangely, I felt the gesture deep in my belly. “We couldn’t let anything happen to that gorgeous smile of yours, could we?”
She looked into his eyes uncertainly and seemed to notice at the same time as me that they were a dark, mesmerizing blue. Beneath them was a sharp-cut jaw and the sexiest mouth I’d ever seen. It was disconcerting. Why was he masquerading as an unremarkable college boy when he was packing all ofthisbeneath the hair and the chin scruff? If he hadn’t had such adetached air about him, it would’ve felt dangerous, like seeing a hidden dagger suddenly unsheathed.
“I’m Simone,” she exhaled.
He nodded and, seemingly reassured that she’d survived her candy-coated injury, took a step away from her.
“And you are?” she prompted.
“Lucas Deiss,” he said, waving toward his friend. “And that’s Logan MacKenzie, but you can call him Mac.”
“I can’t believe you thought you were going to throw a jelly bean that far into someone’s mouth,” Phoebe said, shaking her head at Mac. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”
“Is it?” Mac asked with a hint of southern twang. He looked genuinely curious, and he wasn’t the only one. We’d gotten the attention of the people around us, which wasn’t surprising; the line was moving at a pace that made snails look speedy. LA was one of the most image-obsessed cities in the world, after all. Students were probably setting up their own portable light rings before each photo.
“Yes!” Phoebe’s hands went to her hips. “If it had gone in her mouth, it definitely would’ve choked her.”
“Huh.” Mac seemed to think about this for a moment. “But it’s so small. Her throat tube has to be bigger than that.”
Phoebe squinted.
Mac lifted his shoulders.
“Higher education is going to be good for you,” she pronounced.
Mac ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, smiling sheepishly at Phoebe. “I know. I do dumb things sometimes. My mom says my enthusiasm carries me away.”
“You probably don’t want to start your college career talking about your mom,” Phoebe said.
“Right.” Mac nodded agreeably. His happy-go-lucky vibe was disarming.
Maybe it was because of that, or maybe Phoebe was simply too nice to continue giving him a hard time, but she smiled and added, “I get carried away sometimes, too.”
A wide smile split across his face. “You do?”
Phoebe held out a slender arm, pointing at the scar that sliced through her dark skin from wrist to elbow. Mac ran a finger along it, and I could’ve sworn I felt the air spark between them. Beside me, Deiss had moved away from Simone, but she was still peering at him from beneath lowered lashes. I wondered if I was witnessing the moment I lost my first two prospective college friends to their future boyfriends.
“I got this jumping off the roof with the wings I’d constructed from cardboard and pillow feathers,” Phoebe told him. “I really believed they’d make me fly. Broke it in three places.”
“That’s not stupid,” Mac said. “You have to be really smart to make your own wings.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But it was definitely stupid when I revised the wing design and broke my leg jumping off the roof a second time.”
Mac guffawed, and Phoebe grinned ruefully before slipping into laughter with him.
“We should do something,” Simone announced.
I looked to her, but she was singularly focused on Deiss. He glanced toward me and took another step back.
