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Before I dwell in self-pity, the sky lights up a dazzling display of fireworks.
“Whoa,” it breathes out of me.
“Dang,” Lewis murmurs. “We do have the best seats in the house.”
I turn to him and my heart swells as he mirrors my smile.
My gaze returns to the night sky, and I put on my fantasy goggles. In my head, Lewis is holding my hand and the words, “I love you,” beg to leave his lips.
A chuckle escapes without me realizing it.
Lewis turns to me asking, “What’s so funny?”
I clasp my chest, cringing. “Oh, nothing. Forget it.”
He tilts his head, smiling. “You sure?”
I mumble a laugh, rubbing my lips together. “Mm-hmm.”
“Wow, that’s pretty,” Lewis says, looking down at my chest.
He picks up the pendant hanging from my gold chain and inspects it against his palm.
Holy cow. Lewis’s hand is so close to my chest. I can still feel where his fingers grazed my skin to grasp the pendant. He says something else about it, but I can’t hear it against the heavy pounds of my heart echoing in my ears. It’s literally drowning out the boom and crackle of the fireworks.
His voice breaks through. “Kylie?”
“Huh?”
Lewis chuckles with a ridiculously adorable smile. “I asked where you got it.”
“Oh. My parents bought it for my birthday last year.”
“Is it sapphire?”
“Yeah. I love how dark the blue is.”
He lets go of the pendant and it knocks against my chest. “Me too.”
I keep hold of his eye contact and his smile grows.
He’s so close I feel his breath. Why is he so close? Did he do this purposefully?
Wait.
Does he want to kiss me?
Are we going to kiss?
I sit taller, arching my back.
He doesn’t move.
Why didn’t he move in?
Arching my back would’ve been enough for Parker to kiss me. Why doesn’t it work with Lewis? Is a real kiss harder to conjure than a fake one?
Lewis sits back, and I exhale slowly.
