Page 34 of Into the Fire: Before

We should go.

Not continue on toward the car.

Go see the ballet.Together.

A fluttering erupted in my stomach, and a small smile spread up my face.

Our group paused at the street corner again, waiting for the sign to cross to the other side. Traffic was heavy, cars steadily flying past. We stood four abreast as we waited, and Taryn touched the back of my free hand with hers. I shared a sly smile with her, both of us checking into the bond. The momentary pang had passed, it seemed, and she glowed brightly back at me.

We were both happy, excited.

On we carry, then, to phase two.

Twenty-four

Lin

Bythetimewereached home, Brooks still hadn’t been paged to go into work. We shared a look as we entered the first-floor lobby. Neither of us was ready to say goodnight yet.

“How about a rooftop do-over?” I said as I placed my hand on the small of Taryn’s back. They agreed immediately.

On the roof, conversation continued to flow easily. No one person or pair monopolized the attention. One minute, Taryn and Brea were co-telling an anecdote about their last landlord’s hump-happy dog, which melted into Brooks remembering a dream he’d had that he’d transformedintoa movie star dog who’d turned to catnip to cope with the stresses of fame, which led back to his and Taryn’s dinner discussion about superior dog breeds, which ended with all of us picking the others’ canine counterparts.

Eventually, it became a group session of one million questions.Booth or table? Movies or TV? Favorite color? Favorite animal? Childhood celebrity crush? Current celebrity crush?Odds or evens? Coffee or tea? Beach or mountains? Skydiving or bungee-jumping?

“Okay, next question,” Brooks said, his arm draped so casually around Taryn on the loveseat across from Brea and me, knuckles grazing back and forth over the curve of her shoulder. “Would you rather live in endless darkness or endless light?”

Taryn chewed her lip, looking toward the dark sky. “Do we have, like, flashlights and fire and stuff?”

“Yep. All modern technology. But either no sun or only sun.”

“With the endless light, is it at a constant level, or does it grow and fade? Like a sunset that just never quite sets?”

“Both are constant, never changing.”

She still didn’t tear her eyes from the sky, from the few pinpoints of light fighting their way through the hazy city glow. In my mind flashed the image of Taryn strolling beneath the street lights and billboards downtown. Before me, with the glow of her tanned skin under the Edison bulbs draped across the patio, she was a vision. Her face, even through all the flirting and laughter, had frequently tilted up to admire the view above.

And I knew which she’d choose.

“Endless dark,” she answered as she finally returned her attention to the group. “So long as there are still stars. You?”

“Dark,” Brooks said, fingers running back and forth lightly over her arm.

“And why’s that?” she asked.

He hesitated, the beat of silence like the weight of a dozen cozy blankets tucked in all around you. “Because that’s where you’d be,” he finally answered quietly.

“Well, then,” I said, looking to Brea next to me, “I suppose that’s where the both of us would be too, hmm?”

“Indeed,” Brea agreed. My bond lit up with contentment, a feeling like butterflies tickling through my body. The four of us…in endless dark…the thought sent my own tingle down my spine, and not just because of what we could get up to in that darkness.

“Okay, okay,” Taryn said after a moment, breaking us all out of the sentimental bubble we’d stumbled into. She tapped her chin, thinking of a new question. “Oh! What’s your favorite M&M color?”

“All M&Ms taste the same, sweetness,” I said with a teasing tone.

She scoffed. “Your favorite M&M color isn’t about thetaste,silly alpha,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Haven’t you ever gotten a bag and it only had, like, one green in it, and you justdieda little on the inside?”

My eyes narrowed in hesitation. “…No?”

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