Seven Days Out

Seven days until the Willow Creek Summer Festival opened, and the town square had taken on a magical, almost finished quality. Fairy lights were fully strung and glowing softly even in the late afternoon light. Booths stood proud with fresh paint, colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, and the main stage looked ready for live music. The air smelled of fresh-cut grass, lemon bars, and the faint metallic tang of rain that was never far away.

We arrived as a trio again — Amina chatting excitedly about her latest signage tweaks, Elias carrying a toolbox, and me with a sketchpad for last-minute adjustments. Mrs. Delgado spotted us immediately and waved us over with her ever-present clipboard.

“Perfect timing! Elias, the stage lighting needs one final adjustment. Amina, Lena is waiting for your approval on the photo booth. Zara, the ring-toss game needs your steady hand for the final measurements.”

The group fell into its familiar rhythm. Lena and Amina were deep in conversation at the photo booth, laughing over glitter placement. Tyler and Marcus hammered the last stakes into the grass for the kids’ fishing pond. Sarah arranged story-time books under a canopy while Mia tested face-paint colors on her own arm, giggling at the results.

I knelt in the grass adjusting the ring-toss poles, tape measure in hand. Elias worked nearby on the stage, his Henley clinging to his back with sweat. Every time he reached overhead, my eyes traced the line of his shoulders, remembering how those same arms had held me close the night before.

Amina dropped down beside me a few minutes later, marker in hand. “Okay, spill. You’ve been glowing lately, and it’s not just the festival lights. Is there someone? Because if there is, I want details before opening night. Best-friend code, remember?”

My brush slipped slightly. I quickly fixed the line, heart racing. “No one special. Just happy to be home.”

She studied me for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine. But if I find out you’re hiding a summer fling, I’m going to be mad I wasn’t the first to know.”

Mrs. Delgado called Amina away to help with the signage team, giving me a moment to breathe. The guilt was becoming a constant companion — heavy and sharp every time Amina laughed with me or trusted me with her thoughts.

Lunch was another casual spread on the grass. Sandwiches, fruit, and more lemon bars appeared as if by magic. The group sprawled on blankets, conversation flowing easily. Tyler told a funny story about his latest dating disaster, making everyone laugh. Mia leaned over.

“You seem really happy lately, Zara. Summer looks good on you.”

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing brightness. “It’s nice being back with everyone.”

Elias sat a short distance away with Marcus and Tyler, but his foot found mine under the blanket again — that steady, possessive contact that had become our secret language. His pinky brushed my ankle, a silent reminder that he was there, always watching, always wanting.

After lunch the work continued. I helped Amina and Lena with final touches on the photo booth. We posed for silly test photos, arms around each other, laughing when the lights flickered in rainbow patterns. Elias wandered over under the pretense of checking the wiring.

“Looks solid,” he said casually. When Amina stepped away for more tape, he slipped inside the tight space with me.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, backing me gently against the backdrop. His hand settled on my waist, thumb stroking bare skin. “Seeing you laugh with Amina, looking so carefree… I want to pull you somewhere private and remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His forehead rested against mine. “Tonight. My room. I need to hold you again. Feel your heartbeat against mine. These days are going by too fast.”

“Elias,” I breathed. “We’re pushing our luck.”

“I know.” His voice was rough with need and something deeper. “But I can’t stop. You’re becoming everything, Zara.”

Mia’s voice called from outside. “Zara? You in there?”

We sprang apart. Elias stepped out first, calm as ever. “Just checking the lights.”

I followed, cheeks warm. Mia raised an eyebrow but smiled. “You two have been spending a lot of time together on this project.”

“Festival stuff,” I mumbled.

The afternoon passed without further incidents, but the tension never eased. Every brush of Elias’s hand when handing me a tool, every lingering look across the grass, every quiet “good job” murmured when no one was listening — it all built the ache higher.

By five o’clock Mrs. Delgado called it a day. “Excellent work, everyone! Only seven days left. Rest up and come back ready.”

We drove home in comfortable silence. Amina scrolled festival photos in the backseat while Elias’s hand rested on the gear shift, his pinky brushing my thigh at every stop. The small touches had become constant, clingy, reassuring.

At the house Amina headed upstairs for a shower. “I’m wiped. Movie night tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” I said.

The moment her door closed, Elias pulled me into the hallway shadows. His arms came around me from behind, holding me tight.

“I hate pretending,” he whispered against my hair. “Smiling and nodding while all I want is to kiss you in front of the whole town and tell them you’re mine.”

His hands stroked my arms, possessive and gentle. “Come to my room tonight. Let me hold you. I need you close after another day of almost getting caught.”

I nodded.

We moved upstairs quietly. In his bedroom he undressed me slowly, kissing every inch of revealed skin. Then he stripped himself and pulled me into his bed. Skin to skin, his body curled around mine protectively. One leg thrown over me, his hand splayed across my stomach.

For a long time we breathed together in the quiet.

“I’m terrified,” he admitted softly. “Terrified of how much I need you. Terrified of what happens when the festival ends and you have to go back to college. But mostly terrified of a life without you in my arms every night.”

His voice cracked slightly. The man who had raised Amina alone after losing his wife was clinging to me like I was the first real light he’d found in years.

I pressed closer. “I’m scared too. But I don’t want to stop this.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Then we won’t. Not yet. We’ll be careful. But every night you’re here, it feels like the only thing that makes sense anymore.”

As sleep pulled at me, wrapped in Elias’s warmth, the rain began tapping the roof again — soft and steady.

Seven days until the festival lights would shine.

Seven days until the town would celebrate together.

And with every tender night, every whispered confession, every clingy touch hidden in plain sight, the secret between us was becoming impossible to contain much longer