Page 7 of Sparks Fly

I barked out a laugh and slid into the booth beside Jay, who handed me a mug of black coffee like it was a sacred offering. Jay didn’t talk much. His voice was a rare currency, and when he spent it, you listened. I liked that about him because he didn’t waste anything, not even syllables.

“Did you just get home?” I asked Nina as I lifted an eyebrow.

“From the bar or from someone’s bed?” Nina replied sweetly as she met my gaze.

“Jesus,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Don’t slut-shame me before waffles,” Nina said as she lifted her glass.

I snorted into my coffee because some things never changed. Tasha dropped into the booth last, curls piled high. She didn’t sit so much as land, her energy immediate as she scooted in beside Vic.

“Did I miss anything?” Tasha asked as she looked around the table.

“Only Vic trying to emotionally manipulate us into caring about their hangover,” Nina said as she pointed in Vic’s direction.

“I’m sensitive,” Vic muttered as they took another sip of their mimosa.

I leaned back and let the banter wash over me. Saturdays were a reset, a ritual you built when you didn’t have blood family close but had people who would bleed for you anyway. If I missed this, I felt it for the rest of the week.

We ordered too much food, the way we always did. I got eggs and bacon with a stack of toast and extra hot sauce, and Tasha stole half my bacon before I even picked up my fork.

“You’re a gremlin,” I told her as I stared at my suddenly smaller plate.

“I’m growing,” Tasha replied without a hint of apology as she bit into the bacon. “Shut up and tell me about Benji’s party.”

I shrugged, aiming for casualness as I poured hot sauce onto my eggs. “It was fine.”

“That’s a lie,” Nina said immediately as she pointed her fork at me.

Jay gave me a long, slow look from across the table before finally speaking. “You met someone,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t say that,” I replied as I focused very intently on my eggs.

“But you did that thing,” Vic added, pointing at my face, “where you don’t deny it, but you also get real focused on your food.”

I picked up my coffee grinning into my mug because it was either that or admit the truth out loud.

“Benji’s sister,” I said after a moment.

Everyone at the table made some version of an ohhh sound.

“She’s…” I started before stopping, because words weren’t exactly my strong suit when it came to people who made my pulse trip over itself. “She’s hot. Pretty and polished. She’s a real estate agent or something.” I shrugged like I wasn’t nearly as interested as I actually was. “I noticed her right away, but I wasn’t going to say anything. Then she came over and said hi, and I don’t know. It was just easy. Not what I expected.”

“She gave you ‘straight girl on the brink’ vibes,” Tasha said flatly.

“Extremely,” I admitted.

“And yet you’re intrigued,” Nina said as she lifted one brow.

I hesitated slightly before answering. “It’s not like she’s my type. She wore heels to Blake’s bar and drank tequila.”

Nina laughed as she leaned back into the booth. “That is exactly your type.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. “She flushed pink when she talked to me,” I admitted finally. “Real pink.”

“Yep, that’s your exact brand of trouble,” Nina said as she pointed a finger at me.

“I know,” I replied with a sigh. Even my friends knew I was screwed.