Wildfire (Maple Hills 2)

EVERY DAY I THINK ABOUT the things I’m grateful for like Jenna told me to.

Most days it’s little things, like all the kids having fun or a good night’s sleep. I’m grateful when I check the group chat with my friends and see that they’re excited to see me soon, or when I see that another day goes by and I don’t have a cash request from my dad.

Every single day I’m grateful for Aurora, for getting to see how happy she is letting the kids push her into the lake for the millionth time, or hearing about the cat her mom may or may not have stolen from a neighbor. I’m grateful for the smile I get from her when she first sees me in the morning when I stop by at the end of my run or the kiss we manage to steal away from the group.

I’m grateful to Jenna for not sending us home and I’m grateful to Xander and Emilia for doing what they can to help us successfully continue to sneak around.

Taking the time to look at my day and appreciate what I have and what I’ll be taking away with me is helping me not be sad that it’s time to leave.

But today on the stage in front of everyone at Honey Acres, I’m grateful that the talent show is nearly over.

I’m used to hearing people cheering and applauding, but usually I’m on the ice surrounded by my teammates and it’s easy to zone out. It’s not that simple when it’s just me, Xander, and the dogs on a stage where Xander is showing no sign that he plans to get off it soon.

I know my face is bright red as I hop down, whistling for the dogs to follow me, hoping that it’ll force Xander down. Without Aurora’s determination to do a good job, Xander and I didn’t attempt to put a plan together until yesterday. Now that we’re done and I can stop worrying about it, I’m grateful that Fish, Salmon, and Trout will do anything for bacon.

To their credit, they did every trick perfectly, and I’m convinced nobody will know how unorganized and chaotic this thing has been all summer.

“Nailed it,” Xander says as we throw ourselves into our seats at the back of the seating area. “Told you we would. Tell me I was right.”

“You were right,” I grumble reluctantly.

All the Brown Bear kids smashed it and now that I’m not the performer, I can appreciate how fun this is and what a good way it is to end the summer.

The cheering starts again as the rest of our group takes the stage to do their performance. Aurora is wearing the sundress I love: the yellow one with little flowers and narrow straps that are easy to peel down. Her hair is curled and pulled back off her face with a ribbon and she looks beautiful.

Maya takes her place behind Emilia and puts her hands on her waist and when Clay takes his place behind Aurora and puts his hands on her waist, the music starts, but all I can hear is Xander laughing.

“I wish I could take a picture of your face right now.” He tries to stop it by covering his mouth, but when I give him the dirtiest look I can manage, it only makes him worse. We cheer along for support, but every time Clay’s hands are on her, Xander starts laughing again, irritating me more. “I’m sorry, man. It’s just too funny. Did she not tell you?”

“Would you have told me if you were her?”

I’ve asked how her practices were going a couple of times, but she just said, “Stop trying to copy, Callaghan,” and we’d move on. If it was anyone other than Clay I wouldn’t be jealous. Trout climbs onto my lap and up my body, settling on my chest to sleep. He’s so big and heavy now he covers a lot of my torso when he’s sprawled out. Another thing I’m grateful for, because it’s stopping me from dragging Aurora off the stage like a caveman.

She looks like she’s having so much fun and I concentrate on that and how cute she looks trying to keep up with Emilia, who is clearly the only person on that stage with a shred of professional training, or you know, rhythm.

The song comes to an end and the rest of the audience is clapping and cheering, but Xander leans over from his seat beside me, wearing a smug grin. “They cheered louder for us.”

I know there’s no real reason to be jealous—of the touching, not the clapping—but the dance ends with Aurora in Clay’s arms and I’m officially feeling grumpy. She’s smiling broadly as she comes off the stage, heading straight for me. I force a smile onto my face as she approaches, but she immediately tries to smother a laugh when she spots me. “You good?”

“That is the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, Callaghan,” Emilia says, collecting our water bottles. Maya and Clay come up behind her, Clay looking pleased with himself. Emilia is trying not to laugh. “We’re going to grab drinks. Does anyone want anything?”

“No, thanks,” I say as they disappear off toward the main building.

Aurora takes the empty seat beside me, leaning in. “You jealous?”

“Nope,” I say, concentrating on the next act on the stage. “But know you’re getting it from me next time we’re alone.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Aurora says in a strange tone, standing and moving directly in front of me.

“Okay,” I say, but she doesn’t move.

“I really need to use the bathroom,” she says again in the same unnatural way.

I’m officially confused. I repeat what I said before. “Ohh-kay?”

“I’m desperate,” she says, eyes widening.

“Oh—”

“Jesus Christ, my guy,” Xander snaps, lowering his voice so people around us can’t hear. “She’s trying to tell you to follow her to the bathroom. Probably for sex, I don’t know.” He looks to her. “Sex?”

She nods. “Probably.”

“Fantastic,” he groans. “I’m so glad I could be part of this conversation. I’ll just sit here and die alone.”

She presses her lips together as she shakes her head at me, trying not to laugh. Xander glares at me as she walks away in the direction of the lake where our cabin is. “Stop staring at me. You think I have any idea what I’m doing here?”

“Unbelievable. Go on then, fuck off to your loving relationship. Where’s my summer romance, hey?”

I try to be discreet as I stand and casually stroll in the same direction as Aurora. I want to sprint, but not only would that be embarrassing, I’m trying not to get caught again.

She’s sitting on my bed flicking through a book from my bedside table when I walk in. Her face lights up when she sees me, and within a second, she’s on her feet and on tiptoes to kiss me. I lift her and her legs wrap around my waist, something we’re well practiced at anytime we’re alone. Pressing her into the wall beside my bed, I move my hands beneath her summer dress and over her hips, snapping the band of her panties against her skin before traveling up to her waist.

She breaks our kiss and rests the back of her head against the wall, a smug smile on her face. “You’re doing your grumpy pout.”

I ignore her, kissing down her neck as my hands move further up to the curve of her breasts. It’s easy to pull the material of her bra down and roll her hardened nipples between my fingers. Her body reacts the same way it always does when I touch her, by grinding into me in search of friction. “Are you going to fuck me against this wall because you’re jealous?”

“No. I’m going to fuck you against this wall because being inside of you is the closest thing there is to heaven,” I murmur as her breathing becomes slow and shallow.

Her teeth sink into my bottom lip and she tugs. “And you’re jealous.”

“I’m not.” I slip my fingers back beneath the band of her panties, moving them to the side, and she’s soaking wet already. “I love how responsive you are.”

“Because I love it when you touch me. Especially when you’re jealous.”

She smiles triumphantly because she knows she’s got me. So I rub my thumb over her swollen clit and watch her eyes roll back. I don’t do it again and she grinds into my hand. “Don’t be petty because you’re jealous.”

My dick is throbbing in my shorts and we’ve hardly done anything. I can’t deny the sneaking around has been hot. The stolen kisses, secret touches, the looks only we understand. But when all I want to do is lock the door and keep her until the only name she can remember how to say is mine, being back in my own house is starting to look really good.

“I don’t need to be jealous when I’m the one who gets you this wet.”

“You’re the only one,” she says. “Nobody else matters but you. Put me down and let me show you.”

Walking over to the bed, I lower her down. She moves to her knees and sits in front of me, eyes staring up at me as she unbuckles my belt and pulls down my shorts. My boxers go next and she immediately grips the base of my dick with one of her hands, tongue out flat to lick the precum from the end.

Her free hand slips between her legs beneath her dress as her lips slide over the tip. “Fuck, Aurora,” I groan, sinking a hand into her hair. “You feel so fucking good.”

Green eyes stare up at me through thick lashes. I take a mental picture because there is nothing prettier than seeing her on her knees in front of me. Brushing her hair out of her face, I collect it into my fist, holding tight the way she likes it. I’m working so hard not to come on the spot, but she’s moaning as her hand works with her mouth to satisfy every inch of me, and I can see her hand frantically moving between her thighs.

Her tongue swirls around me before she takes me to the back of her throat again and my eyes roll to the back of my head. My hand tightens the closer I get, my stomach flexes as my balls tighten, and right when I’m on the edge, she pulls me out of her mouth and grins up at me.

Despair is the best way to describe the feeling until, saying nothing, she turns around and lowers her chest to the bed so her ass is in the air right in front of me.

I don’t think I ever truly appreciated how magnificent summer dresses are until now. Quickly grabbing a condom from the drawer, I put it on and tug her dress up over her ass. She watches me over her shoulder as I peel her panties to the side again.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” I groan, sinking into her slowly. “Obsessed.”

“Show me.”

It’s quick and hard. I slam into her and she pushes back. My hands pin hers to the bottom of her back, the yellow material of the dress I love so much entangled in my grip. I watch her face twist with pleasure as she moans my name loudly.

“Harder.”

“Can you take it?”

“Yeah, please, Russ. Go harder.” My grip on her tightens, her nails dig into my palm as her back arches even more to take me. Her mouth hangs open as her eyes screw shut and I can feel her begin to tighten. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Fuck, Rory.” Stanley Cup winners. Name some Stanley Cup winners. “I’m gonna—”

Aurora’s cry interrupts me, and her entire body tightening and shaking tips me over the edge. I come so hard I’m struggling to stay standing, but she’s too busy writhing beneath my hands to notice.

I let go of her hands, gently leaning over her to kiss between her shoulder blades, then beneath her ear, and finally on her cheek. Her eyes open again. “Told you I could take it.”

She’s unreal. “Well done, champ.” I’m teasing her, but she holds up a wobbly hand, indicating for me to high-five her. “We’re really good at this, aren’t we?”

“I’d argue we’re the best at it,” I say, pulling out gently.

She hums thoughtfully. “I’d argue that, too.”

By the time I’m heading back to my seat, I know I’ve got a smug grin on my face. It might be a permanent fixture, because I can’t imagine ever not being this pleased with myself.

“I feel like I don’t tell you I hate you enough,” Xander says to me when I sit.

“I’m going to miss you as well, buddy.”

TONIGHT IS OUR LAST NIGHT all together and I can’t believe how quickly time has passed. We’ll be helping the kids leave tomorrow, then spending the rest of the day putting all the equipment and furniture away, before the rest of us leave on Sunday.

After much deliberation, Aurora is still going to go to her dad’s wedding when she leaves here. I’ve been listening to her go back and forth repeatedly, but she says she’s finally decided.

When she told me everything her mom said, it was all still so raw to her and she was explaining to me how much lighter she felt finally understanding that it isn’t something she’s done wrong. She was so emotional, the relief and the years of pain rolled into one, that I couldn’t bring myself to answer her questions fully when she asked about Dad.

I still feel guilty about downplaying why he showed up at camp. She is always a completely open book about all her thoughts and feelings, and I held back the full truth. I told her he’d had a fight with my mom and he was trying to get me to help, which is only the tip of a very big iceberg.

She’s asked me to tell her everything multiple times. Always in the same way, nervously, with the promise of patience and understanding. When she asked on the day of Dad’s visit, the whole truth was on the tip of my tongue, but after hearing everything she’d had to shoulder, from the phone call from her dad to her mom’s impromptu visit, I couldn’t put my problems on her.

I knew if I told her everything she’d have spent all her energy trying to help me navigate my feelings, instead of concentrating on dealing with her own. I will tell her eventually, but the more that time passes since Dad’s visit, the more my willingness to share decreases. Every day I don’t get a cash app request it feels a little less urgent, and when being honest with myself, I still don’t think I’m truly ready.

Aurora loves when I share. I love making Aurora happy. But wanting to give her what she wants because I’d give her everything if I could is not the same as being ready.

I know one day I’ll feel comfortable enough to talk with her about all my dad’s issues. Now that I’ve had time to process his visit, there’s a tiny shred of hope growing in me that he might be about to turn things around. It’s a lot to cope with, especially as an outsider, and I’d rather talk to her about it when I know what’s going to happen. If nothing’s going to change, I want to know that instead of being embarrassed when I share my hope and he lets me down.

My family is such a huge emotional burden and I just want to save her from that, especially after she’s worked so hard over the past couple of months.

She says that for her this summer was about making choices for the right reasons, and choosing to go to the wedding because she wants to be at an important family event is her right reason. It isn’t a knee-jerk reaction, it isn’t derived from hurt feelings or bad choices—she wants to go.

If she decides she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to, because she’s in control.

I can’t bring myself to remind her that one conversation with him had her spiraling, ready to pack up and leave. I want her to do what makes her happy, and she’s an adult who can make her own decisions. But I think she’s going out of fear of closing the door on their relationship and not because she actually thinks their relationship is salvageable.

But, saying all of this would make me a hypocrite, so I tell her I’m proud of her and that I’ll be there for her, no matter what.

It’s going to be weird being so far away from her while she’s at the wedding. I’m heading to JJ’s in San Jose for his official housewarming party, and as much as I wish she was coming with me, I’m excited to hang out with everyone.

Aurora has learned more about me in these last couple of months than my friends have learned in years, and I feel better every day simply because I have her. Even if Dad does get better and stops the gambling—and hopefully the drinking, too—it’s going to take time for me to work through the years of embarrassment.

And I’m grateful I’m not going to be alone when I start that journey.