When Sparks Fly

“He’s not going to bring home a random.” Although, I hadn’t really thought beyond the next several weeks. The only times he’s been out since I came home from the hospital has been to go into work while my sisters are over or to run to the store if I’ve forgotten something important in my online shopping. Which was pretty much every time when I first came home from the hospital and my brain was in a fog.

There have been no Saturday club nights. No nights out with the guys, no visits with Becky from two floors down. At least not that I’m aware of. “Stop being a buzzkill, London.”

“A buzzkill?” Her expression shifts to hurt. “As if it isn’t hard enough on you being in this chair, now you’re adding all this”—she flails—“this potential complication. Excuse me for worrying about you!”

“I’m a big girl, London. I can manage my expectations. And I think this is less about you worrying and more about you still blaming Declan for what happened. You need to let it go.”

The muffled sound of my phone ringing comes from my purse. I fish it out of my bag and check the screen. It’s Declan.

I answer the call and bring my phone to my ear. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Thank fuck. I was worried. Don’t do that to me.” His voice is high and panicked.

“What?” I’m a little confused by his tone.

“You said you’d message when you got to Spark House. It’s been forty-five minutes, and it doesn’t take that long to get there even if you’re going under the speed limit on back roads.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. We got to chatting and I totally forgot.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine. I was just worried. I’m going into the office for a few hours, so if you want to let me know when you’re going to be home, I can try to time it so that we arrive at the same time.”

“Okay, sure. That works for me.”

“Great. Have a nice relaxing day, Ave.” He ends the call on a cocky laugh, and I slip my phone back in my bag.

London sighs. “I’m sorry for raining on your orgasm parade.”

“I know you worry.” I wave the apology away. “Tell me about Daniel. How are things there?”

“He’s good. Nice. He’s a fan of buying me flowers and sending me things from the places he visits. He’s out of town this week, but I’m supposed to see him when he gets back. He’s asked if I would stay at his place for a weekend, but I’m on the fence as to whether that’s a good idea.”

“Why wouldn’t that be a good idea?”

“Well, a weekend implies more than one night, and I’m not sure how I feel about two nights. Anyway, it’s something to think about.”

“It could mean a weekend of sex, and as someone who hasn’t had it in a really long time, I have to say, it’s definitely worth thinking about.” Harley and I exchange a look, and I can tell she’s biting her tongue. Every time London gets into a relationship she shifts from “fun London” to this serious version. Like all of a sudden being with someone means she’s no longer allowed to have fun. It creates weird tension that we don’t always know how to manage.

“Anyway. Moving on. Let’s talk business.” She clears her throat and picks up her tablet. “Should we go check out the pool obstacle course setup?”

Harley wheels me through the grand foyer and down the hall toward the indoor pool. It’s Olympic-sized and the entire room is a half dome of curved glass. It’s beautiful and serene. I can’t wait to have at least my arm back, so I can make use of it again.

At one end of the pool is a massive inflatable slide, and the pool is set up with two floating obstacles that the participants will have to master to move on. “We set it up just like you explained, and Harley and I ran the course the other day to work out the kinks, but since it’s neither of our strong suits, we figured it would be good to get your input.” London flips a pen nervously between her fingers.

“It looks good, but it’s hard to say unless I see it in action.”

“I figured you’d say that.” Harley pats me on the shoulder and pulls her dress over her head. She’s wearing a bathing suit underneath.

“Have you been wearing that this entire time?”

“Yeah. I put it on this morning because I already knew London was going to make me run the course again.”

“I’m not making you do anything. I told you I’d run it,” London replies.

“But you also mentioned how you’d had your nails done and how bad the chemicals were for them, so I totally took that as a hint that you’d like me to run it instead. And honestly, I don’t mind. It’s actually a lot of fun.”