Page 125 of Lighting the Lamp
We don’t head right back into the house, choosing to linger in the shadows a little longer. Her breathing is unsteady, but I step back just enough to straighten her clothes, my palm gliding briefly over the soft edge of her afro, fingers itching to sink in again.
“Ready?” I murmur, even though I’m not.
She nods, smoothing her shirt and fluffing her hair, but the faint flush on her cheeks gives her away. I curl my hand around hers, not bothering to hide the way I keep it there as we round the corner. The moment we step into view, the table goes quiet for half a beat, and then the ribbing starts.
“Well, well. Look who finally rejoined the group.” Cole smirks and throws a wink in my direction.
“Took you long enough. I thought maybe you’d thrown your diet out the window and eaten all the desserts.” Kyle leans back, one arm slung over the back of his chair, grinning like the devil.
“Nah,” Cooper says, shaking his head. “They were probably thinking more about burning calories than consuming them.”
“Can we not talk about this right now? I’m trying to eat,” Darius grumbles.
“You can take your plate into the living room, baby. They won’t stop now that they’ve gotten started.” Momma pats his hand slightly as he huffs loudly, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“Sorry, little man. We just can’t help it,” Mackenzie chimes in from the other end, eyebrow cocked. “Look at him. His face is flushed, and his hair is messed up. The guy looks like he just played another three periods.”
“Three?” Jace grins. “Try overtime.”
Michele’s smirk is pure trouble as she leans an elbow on the table. “Somebody’s acting like they’re still twenty-five.”
“The keyword isacting,” Crosby adds, earning a laugh from half the table.
“Better keep an eye on your brother. At his age, that kind of extracurricular activity might need a doctor’s note.” Ramona snickers, reaching across to nudge Cooper.
I open my mouth to respond, but Momma jumps in and puts a halt to all our antics.
“Children,” she says mildly, her lips twitching slightly as her eyes lock with mine.
“You’re all hilarious,” I say dryly, dropping into my seat like nothing’s wrong and snagging my glass of lemonade. “Truly top-shelf material.”
“Hey, I’m just saying—” Kyle starts, and I cut him off with a look that has him grinning wider.
Alise slides into her seat beside me, cheeks pink but chin tipped up like she’s daring anyone to call her out. The table’s already buzzing, teasing ricocheting between Crosby and Bower. Kyle chimes in, and Michele tosses in her own chirps. I add a couple of sarcastic retorts to the mix and grin when the group laughs. I feel good, better than I have in weeks. My energy is up, my head is clear, and yesterday’s game was one of the best of mycareer. It was the perfect send-off for Cooper. Everything is fine, and I feel like I’m on top of the world—until it isn’t.
It starts small. A faint pressure in my chest, like I’ve been wearing gear that’s a size too small. I roll my shoulders, keeping my smile easy. It’s probably nothing. Maybe a flare-up is working its way in after the last few days of pushing my limits. This is nothing to worry about, nothing I can’t shake.
Then my heart skips one beat and then another. A stutter-step. Quick to right itself, but enough to make my skin prickle with nerves. I force my gaze back to the table, smiling when Crosby roasts Kyle. I manage to keep my voice and everything else steady. I hope I can keep it together just enough that no one will notice, except, as usual, she does.
Alise’s fingers ghost against my forearm under the table, light but grounding. Her gaze cuts to mine. There’s no teasing in her eyes now, just a small furrow between her brows, searching like she’s reading me cell by cell.
“Hey,” she murmurs quietly enough that no one else hears. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, because I believe it for half a second.
Then the buzz starts. Low at first, like a hive of bees waking in my ears. It swells, a hum at first, before the sound drowns out everything around us. The air thickens as I take a sip of lemonade, but it moves down like syrup, my chest hitching against it. My vision wavers, and my breath feels like it’s moving through molasses.
Michele’s voice cuts in from across the table, playful but with an edge. “You look like you just ran stairs in full pads. Don’t tell me you’re already winded from one little stroll.”
I try to smirk, to volley something back, but the words don’t come. My chest cinches tighter, and my heart kicks into a faster, uneven rhythm that makes my throat close.
“Beau, are you good?” Cole’s laugh dies mid-breath, concern written all over his face.
“Yeah,” I manage, though my voice is rougher than it should be. I push back from the table, aiming for the cooler. “Just need more lemonade.”
I make it a few steps before the floor tilts. My hand shoots to the back of my chair to steady myself, but it doesn’t stop the world from pitching.
“Beau.” Alise’s voice slices through the noise and is on her feet instantly, her chair scraping back hard enough to jolt the table.
