Deception by B. C. Burgess Page A

head-start she'd given herself. She glanced at the crowded lawn while magically sealing her skirt to her legs. Then she flipped upright and spun around, smiling as she searched for Quin.
    He wasn’t there, and her smile fell as she furrowed her eyebrows, sad he didn’t play her game.
    “Hey,” he whispered, his warm breath sweeping across her ear.
    She jolted and twirled around. “How did you do that?”
    “You're fast,” he laughed, “but you can't beat me yet.”
    “But I didn’t see you pass me.”
    “I took the window in the spare bathroom,” he revealed, pointing behind her. “I was here when you appeared over the house.”
    “Are you really that much faster than me?”
    “No. You'll out-fly me as soon you’re comfortable enough to test your limits.”
    “Have I seen you fly your fastest?”
    He thought for a moment then shook his head. “No. I flew my fastest last night, but you had your face hidden.”
    “May I see it now?”
    “If you’ll race with me. I need the competition.”
    She glanced down. Twenty-eight chairs sat in a haphazard circle – all but two of them occupied. “I don't know,” she mumbled. “You’d probably lap me and that would be embarrassing.”
    “There’s no way I’ll lap you. But if it will make you feel better, we can call some people up here you're sure to beat.”
    Her face grew warm as she rubbed her neck and clicked her fingernails together.
    “What's wrong?” Quin asked, pulling her against him.
    “I’m embarrassed,” she answered, “but I don’t know why.”
    Quin frowned and touched her hot cheek. “Didn't you participate in group activities in Oklahoma?”
    “Yes.”
    “What did you do?”
    “Lots of things. Sports, dance, choir, theater… student council.”
    “That's a long list. Were you embarrassed then?”
    “No.”
    “Hmm… How long has it been since you performed in front of a crowd?”
    She thought back, trying to remember. Then her eyes moistened as her throat tightened. “The day my mom had her stroke. I played a game of softball with a church group.”
    “I see,” he whispered, wrapping her in a hug. “That's a long time, love.”
    “Mom was always my cheerleader. I guess I lost my go get em' attitude when I lost her.”
    “I can understand why that would break your spirit, but you have twenty-seven cheerleaders now.”
    “I know.”
    “But you're still hesitant.”
    “Yes. I feel the way I did before my first dance recital. I was four and scared out of my mind. I didn’t think my flimsy knees would hold me, so I planted my feet backstage. Mom cried because she had to push me onstage.”
    “How did it go?”
    “I didn't miss a step.”
    “Of course you didn't; you're a witch. What I meant was – how did it feel to perform in front of an audience?”
    “I don't remember what it felt like, but I remember being excited. I practically flew into my mom's arms afterward. Then she took me out for ice cream.”
    He tilted her head back, smiling as he swept a thumb across her lips. “That’s a sweet story. Did you dance onstage again?”
    “At least four times a year until I was eighteen.”
    “Hmm… I'm not going to make you race, but I think you should. I think you’d enjoy it, and I think you’d want to do it again.”
    “I think you're probably right, but the nerves are still there.”
    “Then we’ll wait and do it another time.”
    “I’m sorry, Quin.”
    “Don’t be.” He leaned in for a kiss. Then he grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Hey.”
    “Hey back.”
    “I have a challenge for you.”
    She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What’s that?”
    He smiled and pointed up. “Want to see whose fireball is bigger?”
    “Yes,” she answered, eyes widening on the vast sky.
    “We have to go at the same time,” he stipulated, “or you'll cheat.”
    “Deal,” she laughed.
    He took her left hand and moved beside her. “Straight up, on three. Ready?”
    She mentally pumped herself up. “Yes.”
    They