Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3) - Page 54

The impressive thing about the Villages is that they focus on guest experiences, so everything is pretty cool even if you’re just a local. It’s always fun but for New Year’s Eve they went all out. Fire pits are scattered throughout the area and vendors sell little s'mores kits. There’s a whole kids' area with bouncy-houses and slides. Adult-only areas are cordoned off, where booze flows freely. There’s a big stage up front where a man and woman emcee the event, along with a few bands playing music.

“Hey, look,” Nora says, pointing at a recently vacated firepit. “Want to grab it?”

“Yes, please,” Starlee says, rushing over to warm her fingers by the fire.

“You guys save the spot, we’ll go get s'mores kits. We can use our staff discount,” George says, pulling out his wallet to find his card.

“Good idea,” Starlee says, settling in between Jake and Dexter. He tosses his arm over her shoulder.

At the vendor stand I glance around, waiting our turn.

“Why are you so nervous?” George asks. His cap is pulled down low enough on his forehead that I can’t see his wound.

“Just don’t like being this close to Dad.”

“His job doesn’t have anything to do with the shopping area, and you know he’d never come down to something like this on his own. He hates crowds and prefers to drink alone, like a miserable old bastard.”

“I know,” I sigh, rubbing my neck, smiling at the jab.

“Relax,” George says, frowning when I start chewing on my bottom lip. It’s my tell for stress. I’ve about gnawed it raw over the last couple of days. The clock just isn’t ticking on the end of the year, it’s ticking for me and George. We’ve got to either resolve our issues with Dad or talk to Mrs. Delange. We can’t hide out in that cottage much longer.

We purchase our kits and head back to the firepit. As we walk up, Claire taps Starlee on the shoulder. “Oh look, it’s the wicked bitch of the west.”

We all look over and see Christina with her friends. Worry crosses Dex’s face and Starlee sees it. “Don’t let her bother you, okay? This is a big event. We can always say we ran into one another.”

Claire shoots Jake a look. “I thought you handled that.”

He frowns. “I tried. You know she’s stubborn.”

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that, and Christina keeps moving through the crowd without seeing us. Maybe George is right. I need to chill out.

We enjoy ourselves around the firepit, telling stories about past New Years, like the one two years ago when George decided we all needed to Polar Bear plunge at Mirror Lake in Yosemite.

“My skin turned purple,” I say, shaking my head. That was a terrible idea.

“It was so cold,” Jake says, “I literally thought my balls may fall off.” The girls laugh and Jake raises a suggestive eyebrow at Starlee. “Good thing that didn’t happen, right?”

Her cheeks burn red and Dexter says, “There’s about thirty minutes until the drop. We should go get a spot.”

“Hey,” George says, tugging on my sleeve, “I think I know where we can get an ideal vantage.”

“Yeah?” I ask, not sure what he’s talking about.

“Follow me.”

I have no idea where he’s going, but it’s in the opposite direction of the mammoth. He pushes through the crowd but we make sure to keep together. He ducks down a small side pathway between two shops and leads us to a maintenance area. There’s a code box on the door but George seems to know it, punching in the numbers, and the lock slides loose. There’s a flight of stairs just inside and he starts climbing.

“Where’s this go?” Dexter asks behind me.

“I don’t know. I’m an I.T. guy. I work in the office.”

At the top landing there’s another door and he pushes it open. It takes us to a small outside area, just over the town with a direct view of the mammoth drop at the stage.

“I had to help clean out this area one day. It gets filled with a lot of debris when it’s windy.” He smiles. “Perfect, right?”

Starlee beams. “Yes! Totally perfect, thank you for thinking of it.”

The little patio is dark and covered, shielding us from some of the cold breeze blowing through the night. Everyone huddles around the railing, except me, because I feel the need for a little space. I separate from the others and look over the crowd below. The twinkling lights and the ridiculous mammoth hanging over the stage. I finally relax, knowing we’re up here where no one can see us, find us, or cause any problems. There’s no Christinas, no social workers, no parents or guardians.

Tags: Angel Lawson The Wayward Sons Romance
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