Chapter 3 Fireworks At Rosewater #3
Sally laughed before anyone else did, quick and private and a little proud. Sam heard it. His grin got easier.
"You good?" I called.
"Great," Sam said. "I'm just here to witness history and avoid emotional growth."
"Too late," Sally said.
"Rude."
Vina glanced at them, then back to me. "He'll live."
"I know."
She studied my face. "Do you?"
"Yeah." I kept my hands on her waist. "And he's got Sally."
Vina's eyes flicked back to them. Sally had already taken Sam's empty cup from his other hand without being asked and set it on a passing tray. Sam didn't notice. Or maybe he did and didn't know what to do with it.
Vina smiled softly for half a second. "Yeah. He does."
Then she dragged all my attention back with one slow roll of her hips.
The next song bled into something faster. Vina stayed close for just long enough to make the crowd lean in, then slipped out of my hold and backed toward the bar, walking backward, eyes locked on mine.
"We're not done," she said.
"I got that."
"Not even close."
She turned, red hair flashing, and left me standing on the dance boards with my body lit up, my shirt damp, my pulse in my throat, and half the terrace pretending it hadn't just watched Vina Ashby turn public restraint into a weapon.
Poppy appeared at my side a second later, bright-eyed and delighted.
"You survived."
"Barely."
She looked down, then back up, smile wicked. "Barely seems accurate."
"Poppy."
"What? I'm emotionally supportive."
She took my arm and steered me toward the lower dock. "Come on. Lucy's been yelling for you for five minutes, and Bristol has that quiet murder-face she gets when people block her shot."
I followed because arguing would require blood in my brain, and Vina had stolen most of it.
***
Lucy had turned the lower dock into a competitive sport without asking permission.
There was a net strung between two pylons, a bucket of balls, three teams arguing rules, and Lucy at the center of it all in blue shorts and a white top, ponytail swinging, bare shoulders shining with sweat.
She had the crowd in her hand. Every time someone tried to cheat, she saw it.
Every time someone hesitated, she shoved them into motion.
The game might have started as dock volleyball, but by the time I arrived Lucy Lyons had crowned herself queen of the whole thing.
"Nash!" she called. "Finally. I need a co-captain."
"You have a full crowd."
"I have chaos. You're useful chaos."
"That's flattering."
"It was meant to be."
She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the middle of the dock. Her hand was firm, her body close, her energy kinetic enough to make everyone around her stand taller. She pointed at the net.
"First to eleven. Winners get bragging rights. Losers carry the empties up to the terrace. Anyone complains, they swim."
A lake guy raised his hand. "Can we appeal?"
Lucy smiled. "To me? Bad plan."
The crowd laughed, and the game started.
Lucy played hard. She dove for a low ball, popped up laughing with damp hair stuck to her cheek, then spiked the next point so cleanly half the dock yelled.
She made people better because she expected them to keep up.
She dragged two shy girls into the rotation, barked at a guy for crowding the net, and somehow made the whole thing feel like the center of the party for fifteen minutes.
When I blocked a shot that would have ended the round, Lucy launched herself at me.
Her arms went around my neck. Her body hit mine, hot and sweaty and laughing. I caught her by instinct, one hand at her back, the other at her waist.
"That's my Ace," I said, low enough for her.
The nickname landed between us. Not loud enough for the crowd, but not hidden either.
Lucy's smile flashed, pleased and hungry. She pulled back just enough to kiss my cheek. It lingered a beat too long to be only celebration, and her fingers pressed into the back of my neck before she let go.
"I'm still waiting for my real turn," she said softly.
"I know."
Her smile went bright again, but her eyes stayed on mine for one extra second. "Good. Don't forget because I'm being fun in public."
Then she spun back to the game and yelled, "Blue team serves!" like she hadn't just moved the floor under me.
I backed off the dock after the next round, needing a breath that didn't smell like sunscreen, spilled beer, and Lucy's skin.
Bristol waited near the end of the rail.
She had her phone down at her side, not pointed at the launch area or the game or the crowd. Just down. Watching.
"What?" I asked.
"You stayed."
"With Lucy?"
"With all of them." Bristol tilted her head, dark hair shifting over one shoulder. "Kit kissed you in the open. Luna held your hand. Poppy climbed into your side. Vina turned half the bar into a witness stand. Lucy kissed your cheek in front of a dock full of people."
"That's a list."
"You didn't step back."
I looked toward the terrace, where Kit and Luna were talking near a drink station and Poppy was laughing with two Kappa girls who had looked much more suspicious an hour ago.
Vina was back at the bar, making a server blush.
Lucy was calling the next round. The whole party had lines of sight to all of them.
"I thought about it," I admitted.
"I know."
"Of course you do."
Bristol smiled slightly. "You think it's subtle when you decide whether to protect someone by creating distance. It isn't."
"That bad?"
"Only if you move."
I let that sit.
Bristol lifted her phone now and turned the screen toward me.
It wasn't a posed shot. It was Kit laughing with Luna while Poppy leaned between them, one hand on each of their backs.
In the background, blurred but visible, I stood with Lucy at the dock game.
Vina burned red at the bar. The whole frame looked alive, crowded, accidental, and somehow true.
"That's good," I said.
"That's real," Bristol corrected. "Good is easier."
She lowered the phone and looked at me. Her gaze was quieter than the others, but it cut deeper because Bristol never wasted attention.
"Steady is better than careful," she said.
I remembered that.
Before I could answer, a woman I didn't recognize slid into the space beside the rail like she belonged there and knew it. Red-brown hair, sharp smile, short green dress over a white bikini, drink in hand, eyes bright with trouble and humor.
Bristol's mouth twitched. "Jessa Lane."
"Kappa Rho?" I asked.
"The loud part."
Jessa heard that and laughed. "Accurate." She looked me up and down without shame, but without the kind of hunger that would have made the moment dangerous. Curious. Amused. Fearless enough to say what everyone else kept dressing up. "So you're Nash Brewster."
"That's me."
"The guy with the lake trying to make flowcharts."
I coughed a laugh. "Is that what they're calling it?"
"That's what I'm calling it. Everyone else is being less creative." She leaned against the rail, not close enough to touch, close enough to make it clear she wasn't afraid of the circle around me. "Relax. I'm not applying."
"Good to know."
"Not that you're not cute." She pointed her drink toward the terrace.
"You're extremely cute. Annoyingly cute, actually.
But mostly I'm fascinated. That group over there doesn't move like a bunch of girls competing for a guy.
They move like they all know the joke and the rest of us are outside the room. "
Bristol said, "That may be the smartest thing anyone's said tonight."
Jessa put a hand over her heart. "I want that in writing."
I glanced back at Kit, Luna, and Poppy. "They're not a joke."
"I didn't say they were." Jessa's expression softened just enough to matter. "I said everyone else is outside the room. There's a difference."
That was the first thing she'd said that felt less like social sport and more like a real read.
Then she smiled again, bold as ever. "Also, for the record, watching half the lake try to decide whether to be scandalized or jealous has been the best entertainment Rosewater has hosted in years."
"Glad we could help."
"You're welcome to keep helping." She pushed off the rail. "Tell Poppy her crowd work is terrifying. Tell Vina she owes me the name of that lipstick. Tell Lucy she runs dock games like a benevolent dictator."
"And Kit? Luna? Bristol?"
Jessa looked at Bristol first. "Bristol already knows everything." Then she looked toward the terrace. "Kit looks like the only person here who can make a public kiss feel private. Luna looks happier than I've seen her look in two summers."
She said it lightly, but Luna's name held enough history that I didn't push.
Jessa lifted her cup in farewell. "Enjoy being the question everyone's too drunk to ask gracefully."
She walked off toward the Kappa cluster, laughing when someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into a picture.
Bristol watched her go. "She's going to be trouble."
"Tonight?"
"No." Bristol's eyes came back to mine. "Not tonight."
That was as much warning as I needed.
The first test shell launched from somewhere down the shoreline, a small gold pop that made the crowd cheer and start turning toward the main dock.
Bristol slipped her phone into her pocket. "Fireworks."
Across the party, Kit looked for me and found me immediately. Luna stepped beside her. Poppy lifted both hands like she was summoning the group. Vina pushed away from the bar. Lucy abandoned the game mid-argument and jogged toward the terrace.
The whole party started moving toward the water.
So did we.
***
The first real firework split the sky at nine-thirty, white and bright enough to turn Sapphire Lake silver.
Rosewater moved as one body. People poured from the bar, terrace, pool edge, and lower dock toward the main waterfront. Phones went up. Drinks sloshed. Someone cursed when ice hit their sandal. The music cut lower, then gave way to the hollow boom of fireworks rolling over the water.
I got pulled into the current.
Then the women found me.