Page 48 of Wicked & Wildflower

“I need y’all to say yes first.”

The boys look at me with perplexed expressions. Hesitantly, all three of them mumble their confirmation.

“She wants to go as Ironman, and she wants us to be the rest of the Avengers.”

“Oh God,” Leo groans, and the same time, Everett mutters, “Fuck me.”

Darby is cackling as she asks, “Do we at least get to choose who we dress up as?”

I give each of them my most apologetic smile. “Nope. She already decided.”

We pause as the crowd cheers, but looking out onto the field, it appears the other team scored. Lou stands in the center of the field with her hands on her hips, looking concerned. Everett slips his thumb and forefinger into his mouth—I try to ignore how hot it looks as his tongue darts out between his lips—and lets out a deafening whistle.

Her little head snaps up, braids swaying side to side. He gives her a thumbs up, and even a field away, I can see her smile brightly at him. Something in my chest erupts at that.

“Alright,” Leo says as we turn back to each other. “Lay it on us.”

“She wants you to be Captain America.”

He pops a brow as he nods. “Okay, that’s not too bad.”

“She wants Darby to be Hawkeye.” I turn to Everett, attempting to hide my grin, because I know he’s going to hate his costume most of all. “She wants you to dress as—”

“Don’t even say it, Wildflower.” He sighs. “I already know.”

I chew on my lip. I know it’s a lot to ask of each of them, which is a major part of the reason I’ve been trying to teach her boundaries. She has to realize that not everyone is going to be as invested as I am, though unfortunately, I think she’s already well aware of that, after growing up with my parents and her dad. She just refuses to lose hope that she’s going to find people in her life who’ll drop everything to see her smile. I hate the idea that someday, she might be as hopeless as I am. I don’t ever want to see that happen, but I can’t expect everyone in her life to treat her like their own daughter. She has never had healthy relationships with anyone outside of me and Darby to witness as an example. She doesn’t understand the role of aunt or uncle, doesn’t understand the role of grandparent. I’m afraid that anyone who shows her the slightest glimpse of love and care, she’s going to expect the world from.

And that’s going to cause her a lot of heartache.

I told her I couldn’t guarantee that the three of them would be able to join us, and I tried to convince her we’d still have fun on our own. Secretly, though, I hoped we could give her this experience. Every Halloween she’s ever had was either just Lou, Darby, and myself, or some kind of church event my parents would drag us to. Someday, someday very soon, she won’t want to trick-or-treat at all. I secretly hoped to give her one year where she felt totally in control, a year where she could make the night everything she wants it to be.

“So it’s a no, then?”

Everett’s face softens, and those eyes burn right through me, as if he can read every thought in my head and every expression on my face. “Of course not. You know I’ll paint myself green for that kid if she asks me to.”

Butterfly wings explode in my stomach, fluttering up through my chest. My throat goes tight and my eyes burn. I’ve never had anyone say that to me about Lou before, nobody besides my sister. I turn away, rapidly blinking back my tears before they can surface. This shouldn’t be such a big deal to me, and I don’t want anyone seeing the emotion on my face, seeing the effect those words—that care for her—has on me.

As if sensing that too, Everett’s hand lightly lands on my thigh, drawing soothing circles over my jeans with his thumb. “I’ve just got one favor to ask.”

“Yeah?” I say, attempting to keep my voice from cracking.

“Who’re you dressing up as?”

“Black Widow.”

I turn back to face him just in time to catch his smile. “That’s what I thought.” He bites his lip as his eyes dart down to my legs, slowly running the length of my torso before meeting my face again. “I’ll be there, Wildflower, as long as I get to see you in some leather fucking pants.”

My jaw drops as he flashes me that wicked grin that threatens to put me on my knees every time I see it. The way this man can bring me from the edge of tears to bursting with laughter in a matter of seconds is a whiplash I’ve never experienced before.

I can’t help the giggle that bubbles through me, and Everett returns it with his own as he squeezes my thigh gently before turning back to the game.

We watch the rest of the half in comfortable silence, focusing mostly on Lou while my sister and I make idle small talk when she’s not playing. Deep into the second quarter, my attention is snagged when the bleacher we’re sitting on suddenly dipswith the weight of someone stepping up it. We all turn to see Jeremiah—Everett and Leo’s intern—climbing toward us.

“Thought that was you guys,” he says, running a hand through the blond curls at the top of his head. “What are you doing here?”

I’m leaning against Everett’s chest when I feel him tense. “Watching Dahlia’s daughter play.”

Jeremiah’s brown eyes land on me, softening when he smiles. “I didn’t know you had a daughter. Which one is she?” he asks, looking out to the field.

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