Page 25 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

The fire pops and crackles as Dad adds another log, sparks floating upward like fireflies. I scoot my chair closer to Everett’s, feigning nonchalance. “Flame’s better over here,” I murmur, though we both know that’s not the reason.

When I lean over him to snag the graham crackers from the table, my hair brushes his shoulder. I pretend not to notice the slight hitch in his breath, hiding the way my lips curl. I reach again, this time for the chocolate, letting my arm graze his chest as I pull it back.

“Careful, angel,” he murmurs under his breath, so low only I can hear. His eyes are molten in the firelight.

I smile sweetly, biting into a marshmallow as though I’m completely innocent.

Dad laughs with Tom about fishing spots while Anita compliments the firepit. Eventually, they rise, brushing crumbs from their laps. “We should get going.”

“Thanks for coming,” I say to them warmly. “And Anita, the pie was amazing.”

She beams at me, coming around and patting my hand. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Dad walks them out, their voices drifting into the night. The second the door shuts behind them, the silence hums between Everett and me.

I glance at him, my lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m gonna go to bed. Meet me at the dock in an hour.”

His jaw tightens, his eyes darkening, but before he can answer, Dad returns. I pop the last bite of s’more into my mouth, licking melted chocolate from my thumb.

“I’m heading to bed. Been a long day,” I say with a yawn, standing.

“Okay, kiddo.” Dad wraps me in a hug. “Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” I kiss his cheek, then glance at Everett. “Night, Everett. Thanks again… for everything.”

His eyes burn into mine, hunger sharp and unhidden. “Anytime. Night, Bri.”

I force myself to walk inside instead of crawling onto his lap, wrapping my arms around him, and kissing him until we’re both breathless.

My phone buzzes. I automatically assume it’s Everett. My pulse stutters when I see Joey’s name instead.

Joey: I’m sorry about tonight.

I scoff, shaking my head. Sorry doesn’t erase who he showed himself to be.

Me: We’re over, Joey.

Joey: You can’t mean that.

Me: I do mean it. We’re done.

Joey: It’s because of him, isn’t it?

Anger spikes through me. There’s no way I’m involving Everett in this when that’s only a partial truth. The truth is, Joey and I were never a solid couple in the first place. And after what he pulled tonight, I see why.

Me: It’s been a year and you’ve never once defined us. Sometimes I’m your date. Other times, I’m just… Bri.

Joey: If you want us to be a couple, I’ll do it.

I stare at the screen, stunned. It’s too little, too late.

Me: You had your chance. Enjoy being single.

From my room, I hear Dad’s deep voice thanking Everett again before the front door clicks shut. The quiet that follows is a relief.

My phone buzzes again, and this time, I don’t bother hiding the disgust curling my lip.

Joey: You can’t end things with me. No one does.

I roll my eyes, tossing my phone onto the bed. His ego is bruised, not his heart. He’ll get over it. I won’t waste another second waiting for him to be the man he never was.

Instead, I perch on the edge of my bed, my pulse hammering, reaching for my phone again. This time, it’s not Joey I’m thinking of.

I tug my tank top down just enough to highlight my cleavage, angle the shot on the rumpled sheets, and snap a quick photo—already knowing who I’m going to send it to.

I study the picture, my pulse racing. Perfect.

Grinning, I hit send, Everett’s name glowing at the top of the screen.

For a beat, there’s nothing—just the pounding of my heart and the rush of heat flooding me. Then the three dots appear.

Everett: Angel… you’re gonna be the death of me.

Another buzz, and my lips part on a shaky breath.

Everett: One hour. Don’t make me come get you sooner.

I bite my lip, a tremor rolling through me. Joey’s empty apologies didn’t make me feel a damn thing, but one text from Everett, and my whole body is alive.

Me: Are you threatening me with a good time?

Everett: Angel... You’re playing with fire.

I grin, heat curling low in my belly.

Me: I like the burn... as long as it’s coming from you.

The house is quiet, only my dad’s soft snores drifting down the hallway. The sound is my signal. I spring into action, slipping outside into the cool night.

My thumb hovers for only a second before I type again.

Me: Change of plans. Meet me at the dock... now.

I press send, my pulse pounding as I step into the darkness. Anticipation crackles through me, wild and unsteady.

God help me, I’ve never wanted anything more.