Sparks Fly

CHAPTER EIGHT

Delaney
I sat back on the couch, tucking my legs underneath me as Emma flipped through a magazine. Outside, I could see Dad, Chase, and Carter at the grill, their laughter mixing with the sizzle of burgers. It was a familiar sight—one I'd seen a hundred times before at the cabin.

The smell of charcoal drifted in through the open window, and for a moment, I just enjoyed the simplicity of it all. It was nice to have Emma around this time. Normally, it was just the guys outside and me stuck in the kitchen with Mom. But Emma felt like a breath of fresh air—a little less "Mom-mode" and a lot more laid-back.

Emma glanced up from her magazine, her eyes soft with curiosity. "So... how long have you guys been coming up here?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Since I was seven," I replied, leaning back and letting my head rest against the cushions. "It's kind of like a family tradition. Every summer."

"Wow, so the four of you have been coming here for a while, huh?" Emma mused, looking impressed.

"Well... five, technically," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Carter always tags along."

Emma's lips curled into a smirk. "Speaking of Carter... is there something going on with you two?"

I nearly choked on the air I was breathing. "What? No! Of course not!" I waved my hands in front of me like I could swat away the idea. "I've known him since I was ten years old, Emma. He's basically like... like an annoying brother."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression amused but skeptical. "Oh. My bad, I just thought there was... you know, something there."

I let out a laugh, one that sounded more forced than I meant it to. "No, definitely not. Carter and I? We can barely get through a car ride without sniping at each other. He's like this human-sized thorn in my side."

Emma leaned back, a mischievous grin on her face as if she was in on some joke that I wasn't. "Mmm-hmm," she said, her tone teasing. "If you say so."

I frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you know something I don't."

She shrugged, still smiling that infuriatingly knowing smile. "I don't know, it just feels like there's more to it. I've seen the way he looks at you. And the way you react to him..."

I snorted. "Oh, please. He looks at me like I'm his annoying little sister, not like—" I cut myself off, feeling a weird flutter in my chest that I quickly ignored. "It's just how we are. We've always been like this. Teasing. Bickering. He's Chase's best friend."

Emma studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowing in that way that made me think she was trying to read between the lines of what I wasn't saying. "So... you've never thought about him like that? Even for a second?"

I hesitated. There it was again—the same question people always asked, and the same question I always dodged. But it was different with Emma. She wasn't just some nosy family member or one of my friends fishing for gossip. She was kind, patient, and way too perceptive for her own good.

"No," I finally said, but my voice was quieter now. "I mean... not seriously. He's just... Carter, you know?"

Emma nodded, but I could tell she wasn't convinced. "Okay," she said, but there was a challenge in her tone. "But what if—hypothetically—you did start seeing him that way? Like, would it be the worst thing in the world?"

I blinked at her, caught off guard by the question. The worst thing? I hadn't even considered that. I didn't even know what that was supposed to be. Me and Carter?