Page 63 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)
Clay
The annual Red Bridge Fourth of July fireworks are about to kick off any minute.
The whole town has gathered in the center of downtown, and people have set up chairs on the sidewalk and brought coolers with drinks and snacks.
Mayor Wallace is dressed in his infamous American flag suit, and Sheriff Pete has even added a little pizzazz of red, white, and blue to his uniform.
The city council spends all year planning this shindig, and since I’m on the city council, I know all the ins and outs of the celebration.
This year, I might’ve put in a little extra effort to get the fireworks display just right and took it upon myself to switch up the usual routine of where the fireworks shoot off from, making sure they are smack-dab in the center of the square.
A tent that’s been approved by the volunteer fire department sits in the middle of it all, and Harold and Marty have already ensured that each set of fireworks, which circle the tent, is the appropriate amount of distance away to prevent a fire hazard.
I check the time on my watch and see the show is due to start in ten minutes flat, and I immediately look around the crowd, specifically toward CAFFEINE, to see if Andy Smith, Chet Smith’s son, has managed to make good on our deal.
Another three minutes roll by like the wind.
I start to shift on my feet, worried that Andy’s fucked up the plan.
The fourteen-year-old can be a little dodgy when it comes to follow-throughs, but he’s just dodgy enough to take a little cash on the side without saying a damn word to anyone about what I’ve asked him to do.
The sky is turning dark, and Mayor Wallace encourages the crowd to cheer through the microphone Mikey set up for him this afternoon.
Everyone is hooting and hollering, excited to see this year’s display, and I’m two seconds away from giving up when I see familiar blond hair walking out of CAFFEINE.
Andy is right behind Josie, but when he stops by his parents’ current spot on the sidewalk, she keeps walking straight for the tent, straight for me.
With a smile I can hardly fight back, I slip back inside the tent and wait for her. I pretend to be busy with some of the leftover fireworks that won’t get used this year when she walks through the white-curtain door of the tent.
She scans the space, clearly coming in for a reason, but when all she finds is me standing there with a box of fireworks in my hands, her brow furrows.
“Where’s Marty?” she asks, and I pretend to act clueless.
“Uh…I don’t know,” I hum. “You need him for something?”
“Andy Smith just came into my coffee shop and told me Marty needed an iPhone charger for his phone because it’s being used for the music.” She looks around the tent again, but when there’s still no Marty, only me, she starts to walk for the curtain door.
“Wait!” I shout and quickly set down the box to look at my watch. Only one minute to go.
Josie spins back on her heels, meeting my eyes, and when I don’t say anything right away, she scrunches up her nose in the most adorable fucking way. “So…this is the part where you tell me what I’m waiting for…”
But I don’t have to respond, don’t have to do a fucking thing to keep her, because right on cue, the fireworks start to blast off around us.
“Oh my God!” Josie shouts, her eyes wide with panic. “Clay! I don’t think we should be in here!” When she starts to move toward the curtain again, I run over to her and grab her by the elbow.
“Don’t do that,” I say, pulling her body away from the curtain. “It’s far more dangerous out there than it is in here.”
“How in the hell is it safer in here?” she spits, worry still in her voice. “There are fireworks exploding all around us, Clay! And we’re standing here like two stupid ducks in a flammable tent!”
“It’s safe,” I try to reassure her. “The fire department ensured it was safe.”
“How in the hell would you know that?”
“Because I was the one in charge of getting their approval,” I state with a knowing smile. “Remember? I’m fancy-schmancy city council folk. The ones you think are ridiculous.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think they’re all ridiculous.”
“Oh, so only me, then?” I question, referring to a day, many years ago, when Josie and I had had a moment of tossing shitty words toward each other.
“Shut up.” She snorts. “That was a long time ago.”
I smile at her then, snag two chairs that I made sure were in the tent, and pull them over for us to sit.
“You think I’m going to sit here and, what? Hang out with you?”
“Seeing as this fireworks display is thirty minutes long, I just figured you’d want to take a load off.” I pointedly sit down in one of the chairs. “But suit yourself.”
She huffs out a sigh, but she also sits down.
The silence between us stretches, only highlighted by Marty’s playlist blaring through Mikey’s speakers and the hiss and pop of the fireworks and the claps of everyone in town as they take it all in.
I let that silence linger for a few minutes, simply enjoying having Josie all to myself. I don’t care that she’s pretending to ignore me. I don’t care that she’s not talking. I don’t care about anything except the fact that she’s here. Right beside me. The way it should always be.
“So…” I pause and look over at her, keeping the straightest face I can possibly make. “Is now the time to tell you that I have a serious fear of fireworks? Worse than my fear of heights.”
Slowly, she turns her head toward me, and when she meets my eyes, my face cracks into a smile.
I’m prepared to have her tell me I’m an asshole and roll her eyes or some shit, but I’m not prepared to hear the most beautiful wave of laughter roll out of her lungs.
“Oh my God!” she laughs. “You’re such a pervert!”
“What?” I’m still smiling like a loon but trying to act confused as I do. “I just thought I’d tell you because I know how good you are making people face their fears.”
This time, she rolls her eyes, but she’s still laughing. “Clay.”
“Just sayin’, Josie. You have a true knack for it.”
She reaches out to slap a playful arm against my shoulder. “Shut up.”
I feel like I just won ten gold medals and a Noble Prize and an Oscar at the same time, seeing that smile on her face and hearing that laugh of hers that I’ve missed so much.
I’m high on fucking life, and I’m only emboldened further to spend more time with her.
To get more moments where I get to hear happiness vibrate from her lips.
“Come have a drink with me, Josie.”
“No.” Her answer is instant, but she’s still smiling.
“Please, come have a drink with me?” I request, and she looks away for a long moment before meeting my eyes again.
“Why?” she eventually asks, and I decide to go for broke.
“Because I want to spend the rest of the night making you laugh like that.”
“Oh, so there’s a promise of entertainment?” she questions, and since it’s not a “fuck off,” I only take it as a good sign.
“You have my word.”
She doesn’t say no. She doesn’t say yes. But she does nod and stand up from her chair. “My tab better be on the house.”
Hell yes.