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Dream On(69)

Author:Angie Hockman

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Devin shouts over the crackling booms of the fireworks. He starts toward our blanket, but I touch his arm.

“Not there. Brie and Marcus are… occupied. This way.” I head toward the hill, find a wide, empty spot, and sit. Devin puts down the box and settles onto the grass on my right. Perry sits on my left. Swallowing, I wrap my arms around my knees, tucking them to my chest.

A succession of blue, silver, green, and gold bursts swallow the sky. The fireworks are so close they unfurl straight toward us, dripping through the stars and dissipating in a fizzle of sparks and smoke. Bits of detritus rain down, plinking softly in the grass all around us. I’ve never seen fireworks like this before—larger than life, filling my entire field of vision like the sky is our own private IMAX theater.

Beside me, Perry leans back to recline on his elbows, chin tilted toward the sky. It isn’t long before my neck begins to ache from craning it to look nearly straight up, and I stretch out on my back on the hillside’s soft grass, crossing my feet at the ankles. A heartbeat later, Devin follows suit. Once he’s settled, he twines his fingers through mine. His palm is rough and warm, and I focus on the comforting familiarity of his touch.

Just as the music changes again, this time to a twangy, America-loving country song, Perry lays back as well. His arm brushes against mine as he settles into place… and stays there. It’s only an inch or two of contact above our elbows, but my skin flames where we meet. I don’t shift away. Neither does Perry. He must not register that we’re touching… right?

The boom of fireworks reverberates through my rib cage, mirroring the thudding of my heart. A massive firework explodes directly overhead, its trailing gold sparks sweeping down like the branches of a willow tree. I seize the opportunity to steal a glance at Perry. My heartbeat stutter-steps.

He’s not watching the fireworks. He’s watching me. His nostrils flare when our gazes connect. My lips part automatically. Our chests rise and fall in tandem, the point of connection between us blazing brighter than the rockets above.

Guilt cleaves me like an axe, and I look away. I’m here with Devin, holding hands with Devin, but every fiber of my being is focused on the minuscule point where Perry and I are touching.

What does it mean? I can’t deny that Perry and I have a connection, although I’m not sure yet whether it’s friendship or something … else. But Devin and I are connected too—and on a deeper, inexplicable level. Perry shifts subtlety beside me, increasing the surface area of contact. Heat rises in my face, but I don’t shift away.

By the time the finale begins what feels like an eternity later, my heart is hammering so hard I’m sure Devin and Perry can hear it above the 1812 Overture finale’s opening strains. Fireworks explode in such quick succession I can barely track them. Red, blue, green, silver, violet, and gold bursts illuminate the sky. Devin runs his thumb along mine and my gut tightens.

After a final, dizzying display of fireworks, the sky turns black—and stays that way. People applaud as smoke wafts through the moonlight. Releasing Devin’s hand, I push myself into a sitting position. Devin and Perry do the same. Even though I’m no longer touching either of them, I’m acutely aware of them flanking me in the dark.

“Best fireworks ever,” I say. Shoving to my feet, I brush grass off the back of my romper before shouldering my bag and edging around Devin to pick up the box containing my cheesecake.

“Hold up, aren’t you sticking around for the afterparty?” asks Devin, springing to his feet. “A bunch of us are walking over to Punch Bowl Social on the East Bank of the Flats.”

I gnaw the inside of my cheek. My mind is a muddled mess of confusion, and right now I need to talk to Brie more than anything. “I don’t know. I have to get up early tomorrow—my mom’s picking me up at nine and taking me to her house for brunch…”

Devin gathers my hand in his, and I resist the urge to pull away. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I flick a glance at Perry. His features are cloaked in darkness, but I can still make out the barest hint of a frown in the light cast by the glowstick hanging around Devin’s neck.

“Let me talk to Brie first and see what she wants to do. She’s my ride home, after all.”

“Cass, is that you?” Brie’s voice floats through the dark a few yards away. She must have heard me say her name.

“Brie!” I blurt, grateful for the interruption. I head toward the sound of her voice, but before I take three steps, a shadow bounds toward me through the dark and Brie’s small body wraps me in a breath-stealing hug.

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