Page 89 of Sparrow

When we go on trips.

My heart expands so fast I think I might be having an actual heart attack, but when I check in on it, I realize it’s just happiness.

It’s just the idea that he wants to get me a bike and take me on road trips.

“That sounds nice,” I say, almost afraid to believe it.

“What color will you paint it?”

“Light yellow,” I say, shocking myself with how quickly I have the answer. “With black trim. And white walls, like the ones Orion has on his bike.”

He barks with laughter. “You’ll look like a bumble bee!”

I giggle at the thought, but I don’t care. “And you’ll love me anyhow.”

He pulls me against him, warm and safe and very Mars-shaped.

“Maybe.”

Orion

I’m in the garage when Mars finally decides to make an appearance, and he walks in like he just realized he owns the fucking world.

“What did you do, win the lottery or something?” I ask, looking him up and down with an exaggerated expression.

He just grins, and I don’t ask.

Because I know where he was without having to ask. Only Arden can make him smile like that. Hell, only Arden can make me smile like that.

Guess that makes us both pretty lucky to have found her.

I decide that thought’s not worth sharing–it’s not exactly subject matter Mars and I talk about often–and turn to more pressing matters.

“Actually, I need you for something,” I say. “It’s this damn Chevy. The paint isn’t sitting right and I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

“Really? And here I thought you always did everything right.”

“Ha ha,” I mutter. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You’re going to be punched is what you’re going to be. Can you just come look?”

He smirks at having gotten under my skin so easily, and I’m about to tell him it only happened because I didn’t get much sleep last night when I hear some of the men shouting out front.

I turn just in time to see Rookie rushing our way, his eyes big and his skin pale, and don’t wait to hear what he has to say.

Because something’s wrong, and my first thought is Arden.

It’s always Arden.

And after the fire, I don’t think I can handle her having any more close calls. I’m way too invested, now, the stakes too high to stand it.

I run for the front of the garage, where I can see our men crowding each other, and push quickly through them, shouting for everyone to get out of my way. I get to the front of crowd and come to a stop next to Dutch.

Our driveway is also crowded with me.

Only those ones aren’t mine.