Page 17 of Firefly Embers

Wade grabbed the corsage from its plastic container as I raised my hand in front of him with a flourish and a smile. His warm fingers took hold of mine, steadying my hand as he slipped the elastic band over my wrist.

A tingle of electricity coasted across my skin at such a simple touch, and he jolted back as if it had been an electric shock. I tried my best to keep my features neutral, but his dismissal stung.

After enduring almost an hour of picture taking, we’d finally made our way to the dance.

If there was one thing Wade and I loved more than riding horses together, it was dancing. The awkwardness from earlier had faded, and we were back to our normal playful selves, getting down low on the dance floor and breaking a sweat.

The laughter had been abundant, and by the time the dance was over, I was ready to get out of my dress and into my bed.

At the end of the night, we separated from Max and Shannon, who I’m sure were heading out to the cove to check off another prom night stereotype.

Wade drove me back to my house, as I’d walked over earlier in the evening so we didn’t have to take multiple cars. As he pulled into the driveway, I could see that all the lights in the house were off.

It wasn’t surprising, seeing as how having three-year-old twins who still didn’t sleep well kept most of us up at odd hours. We slept when we could.

“Thanks for a great night,” I said, looking down at the beautiful flowers that adorned my wrist, fingering the soft petals.

It was quiet in the cab of Wade’s truck, and I felt the same electric current floating through the air that had been present in the living room before the dance. Something was shifting between us, and I wasn’t sure whether it was heading in a good direction or not.

“Anytime, Sunshine,” he responded, not bothering to avert his gaze from the front door of the house or loosen his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he seemed at war with himself, so I kept quiet.

“I guess I’ll see you to—” I reached for the door handle but was cut off as Wade’s hand reached out and grabbed hold of my wrist. It was such a striking move that my breath caught in my throat, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said as he traced the veins in my wrist, almost as if memorizing their pathways. I was sure that he could feel my pulse racing at the simplest of touches.

“Anything.” My words came out breathy as I fought for control of my emotions.

The air around us felt thick with tension, and I knew that this moment in time would forever change our friendship—for better or worse.

“Do you feel it, too?”

I wasn’t sure my heart could beat any faster as I looked up from where our hands were connected and met his gaze. He seemed conflicted, and I was sure that my face mirrored his.

I nodded softly and watched as his fingers trailed from my wrist up the crook of my elbow, brushing tenderly across my shoulder until they rested on the side of my throat. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and I leaned into his warm palm.

His eyes met mine, and a moment of recognition passed across his face. We were about to do this. We were about to cross a line we couldn’t come back from. The trajectory of our friendship was about to shift, and neither ‌of us was stopping it.

I’m not sure who leaned in first, but before I knew it, Wade’s lips were on me. They were gentle, almost hesitant, as they pressed softly against mine. It felt as if time stopped and everything faded away. But as soon as the moment happened, it was over, and we were left staring breathlessly at each other across the dimly lit front seat of his truck.

Breaking the tense moment, Wade retreated to his side and scratched at the stubble that had formed across his chin.

Neither ‌of us uttered a word for a good ten minutes, afraid to break the spell of the kiss. The reality was, though, that this couldn’t happen again.

Wade and I were best friends. If we crossed that line into something more, we could lose every single thing we held dear about each other. We had only kissed. That was just a tiptoe over the line. Anything more would have been disastrous.

We could pretend it hadn’t happened, couldn’t we?

“Um, so…” he mumbled, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked nonchalantly, taking control of the situation.

Someone was going to have to make a move to get out of the car, and, seeing as how he had driven, I made the executive decision to erase the last five minutes of my life from my brain, choosing to ignore everything that had happened.

Wade looked at me, confusion crossing his face, but I could also see the realization of what we had just done coasting across his features, and the silent resignation that it shouldn’t happen again. Even wordlessly, we were both on the same page.

Neither ‌of us wanted to sacrifice our friendship to see if what had just transpired could blossom into something more.

We stood to lose too much, and we weren’t sure that leaning into passing feelings was worth breaking down everything we had built together.