Like Dragonflies

I just want to catch a break.

I want to date the girl of my dreams without every goddamn force of nature trying to keep us apart.

Kicking off my shoes, I crawl into my bed and bury my face in the pillow that still smells like Sage. I’m just drifting off when my phone buzzes with a picture.

God, she’s so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine brightly as she grins shyly behind her knuckle at her lips.

She’s worth all the stress.

I’ll keep trucking through his muck to get to her every time.

Every single time.

Sage: They’re gone.

I’ve been circling her neighborhood in my aunt Darcy’s car for the past half hour, waiting for them to leave. Now, I get to see my girl. I haul ass to her house and before I even have the car in park, Sage emerges from the house.

My jaw unhinges because…fuck, she’s hot.

She’s wearing a cute skirt and a white button-up shirt. All the pale creamy flesh on her legs is on display. The furry slipper boots don’t go with the outfit at all, but that’s what I love most about it. About her. She’s random, but incredibly adorable about it.

“You got me presents?” I ask, cocking my head to the side as I inspect the two wrapped gifts she seems to be struggling to hold.

She bites on her bottom lip and holds them out to me. “You have to be careful. They’re really heavy.”

I take the presents and they are heavy. Setting them on the hood of Darcy’s car, I shoot Sage a questioning look.

“They’re really weird gifts—and I know you’re probably going to be mad—but please, just accept them.”

I unwrap them and open each box, my stomach hollowing out when I discover what each gift is. Heat burns up my neck and settles on my cheeks. Shame infects my every vein. I’m reminded of who she is versus who I am. Two opposite sides of a coin. The rich girl and the poor boy.

“Mars,” she whispers, hugging me from behind. “Please don’t be like that.”

I’m stiff as I stare at the battery in one box and new alternator sitting in the other. “I can’t accept this,” I say gruffly.

She turns me until we’re facing each other. Her eyes are watery and her bottom lip trembles. “I want to see you and this is something standing in our way.”

“It’s too much. Too expensive, Sage.”

Her nostrils flare and she tilts her head up, her expression turning fierce. “So? You’re worth it. Would you do the same for me if the tables were turned?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then why is it so bad for me to give you something?”

“It’s embarrassing,” I admit in a whisper.

She stands on her toes and kisses my lips. “We’re partners, remember? How will we ever be anything if we can’t help each other when we can? I want to help you just like I know you want to do the same.”

A shiver runs through her and I hug her to me. “Thanks, partner.”

She giggles. “That’s better. You’re welcome. Now don’t ask me how they go in your truck. All I did was Google The Beast’s make and model and then went down to the auto parts store this morning. I don’t know how to put them in.”

I lift a brow. “Your dad took you to buy parts for a car you don’t have?”

Her smile grows wicked. “Someone taught me how to drive. So I just borrowed my dad’s car and took my own self.”

“Look at you spreading those wings, butterfly.”

“Dragonfly,” she corrects, her smile widening.

I pull away to stash the car parts and wrapping paper in the back seat. Then, I hold my hand out to her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“A really cute guy tells me all the time,” she sasses back.

“Cute guy, huh? I’ll kick his ass,” I say, feigning a growl.

Her laughter fills my motherfucking soul as we make it into her house. Everything is pristine and clean. I immediately feel out of place.

“Come on,” she chirps, leading me toward the stairs. “We can watch a movie in the theater room.”

Theater room?

I try not to cringe as we climb the stairs. We pass by her room and she kicks off her slipper boots. Before she can drag me away, curiosity gets the best of me and I poke my head inside.

Her room is semi-controlled chaos, but everywhere you look, glimpses of her artsy side shine through. All along the far wall are paintings lined up. I’m no longer worried about the movie or the fact I’m in a big-ass house I don’t belong in. No, right now, all I care about is seeing this part of her.

“You like dragonflies,” I note, mimicking something she’s said to me before, as I kneel to inspect several paintings with dragonflies on them. “These are really good.”

“Thanks,” she says shyly as she kneels beside me.