Page 2 of Sparks Fly

“Oh, god,” Rowan said with a sympathetic wince as they leaned on the bar beside us. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Hey, Rowan ,” I said, smiling as I reached over to squeeze their arm.

“Hey you,” Rowan replied warmly. “Good to see you.”

“I needed this,” I admitted as I exhaled slowly. “Just one night where I don’t have to stage a condo in Beacon Hill or mediate a bridesmaid quarrel over dusty rose versus mauve chiffon.”

“You’re safe here,” Tiff said as she pressed a hand over her heart like she was making a promise. “Blake would physically remove anyone who mentions chiffon.”

“I would,” Blake added from behind the bar while they set down another drink for someone waiting nearby. “This is a chiffon-free zone.”

I laughed, and some of the tension that had been sitting in my shoulders all week finally loosened. At least until my phone buzzed inside my clutch. I took it out and glanced down as I saw the message waiting for me. My stomach twisted when I read the words:

Jason: Miss you tonight. ❤️

I slipped the phone back into my clutch without replying before turning my attention back to my friends.

“Where is Benji?” I asked as I looked around the room.

“Last I saw he was playing darts and talking someone’s ear off about how welding is an art form,” Rowan said, nodding toward the back corner of the bar.

“I mean, it kind of is,” I said with a smile.

“Don’t encourage him,” Tiff warned, pointing a finger at me.

I spotted him across the bar and set my glass down. “I’m going to go say hi,” I told her.

Benji was at the dartboard with a couple of his friends, one arm cocked back as he aimed. I slipped up beside him and, just as he released the dart said, “Boo.” The dart fell to the ground and he turned.

“Jesus Addie!” he said as he play shoved me, then pulled me in for a hug, tight enough that my feet nearly lifted off the floor. “Why you have to be so rude?”

“Just fulfilling my baby sister duties,” I said, kissing his cheek.

“Well, thanks,” he said with a grin. “And I’m happy you came.”

His eyes lingered on me for a second longer than usual, the way they always did when he was quietly checking in. Benji had been doing that since we were kids, ever since the year everything in our house shifted and he started looking at me like we were a team instead of just siblings.

“You good?” he asked, studying my face.

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging one shoulder. “Just tired. Work’s been… a lot.”

“Real estate drama?” he asked as he pulled one of the darts from the board.

“Always,” I said with a small shrug. “Clients from hell, too many showings, and Lilly’s wedding planning has turned into a full-time job.”

Benji winced and shook his head. “Oof. Yeah, that sounds rough.”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, taking a breath and forcing a lighter tone. “Tonight is about you.”

“Well,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, “Let’s get a drink, yeah?”

“Lead the way, birthday boy,” I said as I gestured toward the bar.

Tiff was already waving us over like she’d been waiting for reinforcements. Blake slid another tequila soda in front of me before I even asked, and a whiskey for Benji.

“See, your reputation precedes you.” Tiff said smugly as she nudged the glass toward me.

“In alcohol?” Benji asked, leaning his elbows on the bar.