Say Yes by Kandi Steiner
The Art of Fireworks
The 1996 Summer Olympics opening ceremony set flame to an already burning hot summer.
Atlanta had the entire world’s attention, including every pair of eyes in the city of Florence. The streets were full with locals and tourists alike, bars setting up televisions and filling the sidewalks with chairs and tables. Street vendors crowded the space, too, with flags for nearly every country available for purchase. Italy’s pride was palpable, but so was that of the Americans and British students, of the French and Austrian tourists on holiday, of the Greek and Turkish inhabitants, of the Russian and Japanese visitors.
We were an entire world in one little Tuscan city.
Angela and I worked all day on our red, white, and blue outfits, and then we’d promptly taken a long nap to prepare for the evening. Since the ceremony was in Atlanta, that meant it wouldn’t even start until at least one in the morning in Florence.
It was going to be a long night.
Angela wore a tiny pair of white shorts, and a red tube top with platform sneakers to match. She’d braided red, white, and blue glitter yarn into her hair and had glittery red lips, too. I’d gone a little more casual, opting for a red crop top under my overall shorts, and I left one strap off so you could see the American flag on the shirt underneath. I braided my hair, too, into two French braid pigtails, and tied blue ribbons at the bottom.
We both had little American flags we picked up from one of the vendors, and we waved them around like banshees as we joined in the street party. Music blasted from every bar, and yet you could barely hear it over the various national anthems being sung all over town.
It had been a little over a week since my parents called, and other than telling Liam and Angela the news, I’d done little more to process it.
If anything, I was trying to forget it, at least for the time being.
And most definitely for tonight.
“This is insane!” Angela said as we weaved through the crowd.
“We need to find somewhere to actually watch the ceremony.”
“Come on. I heard of a place.”
She led the way until we escaped some of the party and slipped into a slightly less crowded area consisting mostly of shops that were closed for the night. But tucked between a shop that sold chess boards and one that sold watches was a narrow bar, and we ducked inside to find a small table with two blessedly empty chairs.
“Look! It’s starting!” I screeched when we plopped down, and all eyes were on the three box-set televisions suspended above the bar.
After a beautiful song was played by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, President Bill Clinton made his entrance to present the colors, and our national anthem rang out in a small Italian bar.
Pride swelled in my chest, tears building in my eyes at the overwhelming feeling. Angela laughed and gave me a playful shove, but I couldn’t help it. Never in a million years would I have imagined being in Italy, let alone studying art in the Renaissance capital of the world. And to have such a momentous, worldwide occasion happening at the same time? It was just all too much.
Angela ran to the bar long enough to order us two beers — Bud Lights, since it was the only American beer we could get — and then we settled in to watch the performances unfold.
I was completely lost in Gladys Knight’s mesmerizing rendition of “Georgia on My Mind” when two chairs were plopped down on either side of Angela and me. We both jumped, being stirred from our daze, and then Liam filled the seat next to me as Thomas took the one next to Angela.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Liam said with a drunken smirk.
“Fancy, indeed.” I held up my glass of beer toward him first before turning and cheersing to his roommate. “Hi, Thomas. This is my roommate, Angela.”
“Roommate. Best friend. Goddess of Guidance,” Angela said, waving her hand in the air. “There are just so many titles to be had, but let’s not get caught up in that.” She grinned at a dumbfounded Thomas, who was just as struck by her beauty as anyone else who came into close contact with her. “Pleasure to meet you,” she finally said, extending her hand for his.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her skin before his wide eyes gave her another once over. He shook his head over and over, his jaw practically on the ground, and when he met her gaze again, he cleared his throat before blurting out, “Marry me.”
I covered the snort-laugh that bubbled out of me with my left hand as Liam shook his head in pity, and Angela let a devilish smile curl up on her lips.
“Oh, honey, I would, but you’re not exactly my type.”
“What’s your type?” he asked immediately. “Jock? Rockstar? Businessman? Whatever it is, I’ll be it.”
“The type who has a socket where you have a plug.”
That earned a laugh from Liam, but Thomas just screwed his face up in confusion, looking at us, and then at Angela, who cocked a brow and waited for him to put the pieces together.
We were all witness to the way his face fell slack once he finally did. “Oh.”
She chuckled, patting him on the back. “There, there. You can still buy my next drink, if you’d like.”
“Let’s be honest, bud, not like you’d have had a chance even if she was straight,” Liam chimed in.
“Fuck off,” Thomas said, wiping his hand along the sweat gathered on his beer bottle before flicking it at Liam.
Angela clucked her tongue. “Don’t listen to him. I’d at least have given you a chance to prove you were a good kisser.”
Thomas sighed. “I’ve never wished I had a vagina before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
We all laughed at that, but then the roaring crowd in Atlanta quieted as the stage went dark, revealing a temple in the middle of the stadium that brought our attention back to the ceremony.
“I like your team spirit tonight,” Liam said a little later, leaning into me where only I could hear. “I especially like these,” he added, tugging on one of my braids.
I smirked, and without even looking at him I could feel his eyes raking over me. “You should see the panties and bra underneath.”
“Oh, I very much plan to.”
“Is that so?” I asked, finally meeting his eyes. They were dark and hungry, and when he licked his lips, it sent a ping of desire straight between my legs.
“Going for gold. It’s the theme tonight.”
I rolled my eyes and looked back at the screen, but couldn’t fight the smile that spread on my lips, or the heat that bloomed in my cheeks.
Liam must have liked that blush, because he pulled our disposable camera out and scooted closer to me so he could get us both in the frame. With one arm around my chair, and the other extended as far as he could to widen the frame, he snapped a picture, the camera making a buzzing sound as it processed it.
“I bet that one will be my favorite,” he said as he tucked it away again.
“How many pictures do we have left?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Angela and Thomas grabbed us all another round of beers when the Parade of Nations began, and then they squeezed their way through the bar to the pool table tucked in the back corner. Liam and I angled our chairs so we could watch both the ceremony and the pool game, laughing to ourselves as Angela and Thomas gave each other shit.
“I think I need some air,” Liam said when our beers were empty again. “Want to walk with me?”
I loved the way he watched me, like all he could think about was getting me somewhere private so he could touch everything he’d been staring at all night.
“Sure.”
I stopped by the table long enough to let Angela know we were taking a stroll, and she gave me a look that told me she didn’t expect to see me again until the morning. With a kiss on my cheek and a slap on my ass when I turned, she bid me farewell, and then Liam led the way outside.
The night had cooled off marginally, but then again, it was at least three in the morning now. Usually, this city would be fast asleep, but tonight it buzzed like a live wire, every street filled with dancing and laughter and joy.
“So, I got a lashing from Professor B after class yesterday,” Liam said as we walked.
“What?” The word was more of a gasp when I said it. “No way, you’re his favorite.”
He chuckled. “Well, I guess his favoritism has run low. He wasn’t impressed with my latest assignment.” He frowned. “To be fair, neither was I.”
“Really? I thought it was great,” I said, recalling his dramatic painting of half a head, the bottom with the expected, full lips of a woman, but the top broken off and turning into a cloud of bees. “I took it to symbolize the way thoughts can buzz in our head so much, so loudly, that they take over.”
“That was the message,” he said with a sigh. “But… I mean, I started it that night at your place, and then I didn’t touch it again until two in the morning the night before it was due. It had the potential to be more, but I procrastinated, and the concept fell short. As did the technique.”
I grimaced, grabbing my opposite elbow behind my back as we turned to walk along the river. “I want to argue with you, but…”
“But it’s true. I know.”
Liam paused, balancing his elbows on the wall that overlooked the river. I took the spot next to him, absorbing the way the city lights and moon and stars reflected off the water.
“I’m not very focused. I haven’t been since…” He sniffed, but didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. “I just kind of feel like I don’t have a direction. And for the longest time I prided myself on that, because I know how fast the life we build can completely shatter and we have to pivot. So I figured by not having a strict set of goals and aspirations, I could embrace life for what it really is — which is to say, a river with a strong current, and I’m just another leaf that fell off a tree and into its waters.”
I smiled at the analogy.
“But… I know that won’t fly for long, as poetic as it all sounds in my head,” he admitted. He let out a breath of a laugh, shaking his head as his eyes roamed the river. “I came here to do something. I just haven’t figured out exactly what.”
I moved a little closer, finding the crook of his elbow with my fingertips and drawing circles on the soft skin there. “If it makes you feel any better, I got a lashing, too.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he said. “You always get a lashing. I’m the perfect child.”
I snorted, shoving him away before he laughed and moved in even closer, wrapping his arm around me and resting it on my hip. He angled himself so he was facing me more than the river.
I didn’t mind it.
“I’m reverting back to all my perfectionist ways,” I admitted. “I’m sure part of it has to do with the news I got from home.”
Liam hooked his finger in the belt loop of my shorts, tugging me closer. “We never really talked about that. Do you want to?”
“Definitely not,” I said, shaking my head for emphasis. “I’m fine. Really, I am. I just think it triggered all those traps I’ve set in my mind all my life.” I looked down at my shoes. “I can feel that need to be perfect suffocating my art again. And I can’t exactly have a whole life of yes nights, or I’ll never get any work done. Or any sleep, for that matter.”
Liam frowned, looking up at the sky. “Maybe we can help each other, have our own Olympics and go for the gold — me in self-discipline, you in imperfection.”
“Your gold medal sounds a lot more appealing than mine.”
“Yours sounds a lot more fun.”
I smiled, considering his offer. “So, what would that mean, exactly?”
“Well, I think I have what you need, and you have what I need, and we both just need a little balance and training, that’s all. Like the gymnastics team.”
“Huh,” I said. “So, I’m your coach in self-discipline, and you’re mine in… letting go, coloring outside the lines?”
“Precisely. What do you think?”
I tapped my chin. “I think you’re not going to want to have sex with me if I start lecturing you about priorities and giving you homework.”
“There’s not a world that exists where I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said, wrapping both arms around me and pulling me all the way into him. “In fact, it’s kind of hot to think of you as a teacher.” His hands slid down to grip my ass, and he squeezed each cheek firmly, the tip of his nose meeting mine as he whispered, “Will you wear one of those plaid skirts like the girls in Clueless?”
“I do have one of those,” I said with a smirk against his lips. “It’s baby blue and white.”
He groaned his approval, and before I could laugh, his mouth captured mine, stealing any chance I had at doing anything but clinging onto him for dear life.
We both sucked in a deep breath at the contact, inhaling the night and each other all at once. I pressed up onto my tiptoes to get more, wrapping my arms around his neck and running my hands through his hair. He held one hand on my ass, and the other trailed up slowly, sliding along my neck and into my hair until he framed my jaw and held me to him.
Suddenly, a loud boom echoed over the water, and I broke our kiss just in time to watch a tiny rocket go up in the sky and burst into a bright shower of sparks over the river with a pop and a sizzle.
“Liam, look,” I said breathlessly on a smile, pointing behind him. “Fireworks.”
But when I looked back at him, his eyes were locked on me, and he shook his head, sliding his hand back into my hair to tug me close again.
“I think I’d rather make our own.”
The next kiss Liam pressed to my lips wasn’t playful or gentle. It was desperate and needy, greedy and demanding. He took and took until my knees were weak and a small whimper came from my lips, and when my body fell limp in his arms, he caught all of me, assuring me he was there to catch me.
That kiss told me it was okay to fall, even though my heart knew it wasn’t.
He pressed my back into the stone wall as another firework burst above us, and as the glitter shower rained down, Liam slipped his hand under the chest of my overalls and pressed his warm palm to my stomach. I gasped at his boldness as he trailed down farther and farther, until he couldn’t get his arm any deeper without turning me and pressing his chest to my back so his hand could travel farther down.
“Liam…” I warned, but already my hands were gripping the stone wall, bracing, preparing.
I knew there was no stopping now.
“I’ve got you,” he promised, a whisper in my ear as his hand slipped under my panties, his middle fingertip dipping into my wet arousal.
I moaned, letting my head fall back to hit his shoulder, and I felt his lips curve into a smile before he started kissing my neck and sucking my earlobe between his teeth. He wrapped his arm around me even more, and with that came the access he wanted.
He slipped a finger inside me, deep and fast, and caught my weight when I fell back against him.
I knew there were other people around. I knew we weren’t the only ones who’d walked away from the packed block parties in the streets and decided to stroll the river to get fresh air. But in that moment, with him inside me, and his breathy kisses in my ear, I didn’t care.
Let them watch.
Let them see what I do to this man.
Each new thrust of his finger inside me had his palm rubbing against my clit, the friction and penetration combining with the way he sucked and bit my neck to drive me right over the edge. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before I was coming with his name on my lips, and another firework blast in the sky that I felt from the inside out.
When I finished, Liam slowly removed his finger, turning me to face him. I was panting, my mouth open, and his dark eyes searched mine as he held the finger wet with my desire against my bottom lip.
I didn’t even question it, didn’t have to think about it. I knew what he wanted, and I answered his plea with my eyes still locked on his, sucking his finger into my mouth and licking it clean.
His chest heaved, his eyes hooded, breaths loud in the air between us. When I released his finger with my wet lips rolling over the tip, he swallowed, closing his eyes for a beat before he slammed his mouth to mine.
“I want you so fucking bad, Harley,” he breathed against my lips, crushing my body to his with his hard length pressing into my stomach.
“Take me.”
“Not here.”
He pulled back, eyes frantic as he searched our surroundings. Then, suddenly, he grabbed my hand and tugged me across the street away from the river and into a tight alleyway with broken stone walls and vines crawling up each side. There were no lights above, just the small windows of what I assumed to be the backside of residences, and as soon as we were hidden in the shadows, he slammed me against the wall and pinned my arms up overhead, kissing what little breath I had left out of me.
“What are you doing to me?” he asked on a breath between bruising kisses.
I dragged my nails down his back in an answer, drawing a hiss from him before he ripped at the strap of my overalls still fastened. They were oversized and baggy on me, so as soon as he unclipped it, they fell, and then I was there in the alley in just my crop t-shirt and red cotton panties to match.
Liam stepped back for just a fraction of a moment to take in the sight, and then he spun me, my hands pressing against the wall to catch myself. I heard him unfasten his jeans behind me, the rip of the condom wrapper, his ragged breaths as he rolled it on, and then his thumbs slipped under the band of my panties and pulled them down to my knees.
There wasn’t enough space to spread my legs fully, the fabric of my panties restraining my legs, but I spread as much as I could and hinged at the waist, giving him access.
Permission granted, he lined himself up, the tip of him pressing into my wet opening, and then with a flex of his hips, he filled me from behind.
I gasped, and before I could moan or scream, his hand wrapped around my mouth. He stifled his own need to groan, biting down on my shoulder, instead, as he pulled out and pressed back in even deeper.
His thrusts were slow and deep, every inch of him ripping me open, and then he picked up his speed, his breaths growing more and more shallow. When he was close, the hand wrapped around my mouth fell to squeeze my breast, and that must have sent him over the edge. He grunted, body shaking and trembling as he released into the condom, and I felt every pulse inside me like a calling for me to find my second release, too.
Just as my orgasm started to catch, he stopped, his body going slack behind me.
“No,” I whimpered.
“Fuck,” he said instantly, his hand snaking around me. “Are you going to come again?”
“Yes,” I breathed, but I didn’t even have to answer. He was already pressing his warm palm against my clit and circling hard, his hips pumping even as he went soft inside me. But he was still hard enough, still deep enough, and the combination of him touching me while he worked inside was just what I needed to catch the spark.
Another boom. Another firework overhead. A distant cheer somewhere in the city as an almost-painful orgasm shook through me. And when I was spent, I was truly spent, weak and dizzy and exhausted like I’d never been before in my life.
Liam withdrew, turning me so he could press a gentle kiss to my lips, his hands disheveling my braids, our breaths slowly evening out in the dark alley.
“See?” he asked. “Our fireworks were better.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head before he kissed me again.
The next firework crack in the sky sounded like a clock bell to me, loud and striking, reminding me that in just over a month, our program would be over, and we’d go our separate ways.
Now that I’d had him, I wondered how I ever thought I could play this whole thing cool.
I wondered how I was going to keep it casual after a night like tonight.
I wondered how I’d ever let him go when the summer came to an end.
But the next boom shook the thoughts from my head, and after we got dressed again, I let Liam take my hand and walk me back to the bar as we joked and laughed and kissed every chance we got, like nothing in the world could stop us now.
What was worse was that I actually believed it.