Page 19 of To Catch a Firefly

I nod a little. She’s been stable these past few months, which is about the best we could ask for. “Got the wheelchair ramp in,” I tell him.

It’s been a slow process, outfitting the house for when my mom will eventually need accessibility. We’re getting closer to that stage, but we’re not quite there yet.

Lucky gives my arm a squeeze, leaving his hand there afterwards. His palm is warm against my forearm, and his thumb brushes my skin almost absentmindedly. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the sensation—that slow, sweet, druggingwant—wash through me before I push it away.

“El,” Lucky says, and I open my eyes. “It should’ve just been me and you tonight. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, grabbing Lucky’s hand and giving his knuckles a quick kiss. His breath catches.

“If you ever decide to love someone,” he says slowly, “they’ll be very lucky.”

He already is.

Lucky turns onto his back, settling on the narrow mattress, his head on one side of his pillow. The rest of it is for me. “Happy birthday, El.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol still running through my system that has me acting without thought, but I lean my forehead against Lucky’s shoulder and throw my arm over his chest, hand settling at his heart. He doesn’t move for the longest moment, but then his head leans against my own, and his hand curls up over my wrist, holding me in place.

For one night, I hold Lucky like I want to. And in the morning, I go.

Chapter 7

Ellis

I was twenty-two when I said goodbye.

I hear Lucky’s car pulling up his parents’ drive before I see it, but I’m nearly done replacing the belt on the lawn mower, so I focus on my task. When I finally turn around, Lucky is standing beside his vehicle, looking at me, and Iknow.

Heart heavy, I right the mower as Lucky strides over through the too-tall grass. He walks past the hatch of the tornado shelter before reaching the backyard, and then he stops five feet in front of me.

I bring my eyes to his slowly, doing my best not to flinch when he opens his mouth.

“I got the job,” he says.

I nod, using a rag to wipe the oil off my hands before I pocket the cloth and step toward him. I tap the side of his lips, and Lucky frowns harder.

“I’m happy,” he claims.

I raise an eyebrow, keeping my own feelings locked down tight. Because I knew, Iknewthis day would come, and Lucky deserves nothing but my support. But he surprises me, storming a step away.

“Iamhappy,” he huffs, hair whipping around his face when he turns back my way. “This job is unreal. I’ll be flying all over the world. They’re starting me in Norway.Norway, El. You know how much I’ve wanted this.”

I nod once. Lucky’s been set on being a photojournalist since his mid-teens, and starting out at a prominent nature magazine like he’ll be doing is a big deal.

He’ll see the world. His remarkable life.

I’m not the least bit surprised he got the job. Lucky is immensely talented, and when he sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him.

But he’s also sad. I can see that plain as day, despite what he himself claims.

“I’ll miss you, too,” I tell him.

He croaks, his arms hanging limply at his sides. “Damnit, El.”

What…

Lucky stalks over, shoving my shoulder. “You…you can’t just…” He huffs again, and I have no clue why he’s so put out. “I’m going to call. And you’re going to talk to me.”

It sounds like a threat.

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