“Be honest. On a scale of one to ten, how hurt will they get.”
Whit shakes out his arms and then sighs. “Twenty. But there’s no stopping them. It’s best to just let them do what they want and…pray.”
* * *
“Oh my God, Sem,” I gasp, watching as Sem makes his way toward me, blood dripping down his face, and I reach out and grab onto his chin, tilting it to see the damage.
Luke and Liam stride up behind us, grinning like fiends. A burn covers part of Luke’s wrist, and Liam has singed off part of his hair. Caleb looks primarily intact, except for a scraped knee from tripping on a rock as he ran away from a wayward firework.
Whit’s already fussing with him, shooting him withering looks. Caleb just sits back and lets Whit tend to his wound, enjoying the pampering far too much.
Sem looks down at me with a giant smile, and I roll my eyes.
“It was cool, right?” he asks. “You have to admit it was.”
“Yes, until you blew yourself up. What is wrong with you?” I ask, holding up the gauze that Whit had wordlessly handed me as soon as we saw the disaster that was about to strike.
“Hey, nothing’s wrong with him!” Luke shouts. “That was epic. Worth every penny.”
“Oh my god,” Whit grumbles, and Caleb and Sem chuckle.
I press the clean gauze to Sem’s open face wound and then poke him in the chest.
“That was reckless….”
He grabs onto my hand and pulls me up against him. “Yeah, but it was cool. Admit it.”
I huff, and then a small smile breaks across my face. “Fine. It was coolat times, but never again, Sem.”
“Nah, I can’t promise that.”
“Fine, then at least don’t use a flamethrower next time. How was that a good idea?”
“It was Sem’s idea,” Luke yells as he jumps into his truck with Liam. They speed past us, dust flying up around their tires as they disappear into the darkness.
“Your idea, huh?”
Sem rolls his lips between his teeth and smirks.
Jesus, this man is going to be the death of me.
Sem’s wound is bleeding profusely when we finally arrive home, and I glare at him. Blood drips down his temple and disappears beneath the fabric of his shirt.
“You didn’t hold the gauze to the wound?”
He shrugs. “I was driving.”
“Seriously, we need to clean that. Right now. You’re going to have a scar.”
“That going to bug you, if I have a scar on my face?”
I envision it and then shake my head. “Of course not. It will be annoyingly sexy.”
When Sem smirks, I hold out my finger. “Do not get any more ideas into that head of yours. No more scars. No more getting hurt.”
We make our way inside the house and see Sem’s mom fussing over Luke while his dad fist bumps his son. His dad’s hand is promptly smacked away, and then his mom’s eyes meet Sem’s, and she frowns.
“I’m glad none of you ruined our vacation by being idiots,” she says sharply. “If I had to spend the Fourth of July in the hospital, I would have disowned you all…except Whit. I would have kept him. And Magnus. I’ll keep you too.”