DEMETRIA

A few weeks later…

“Welcome to Mexico!” I shouted, my arms stretched wide as soon as the warm air kissed my skin. The sun here had a way of wrapping around you—bright, golden, alive. The sounds of mariachi music and the chatter of people spilled through the terminal, and instantly, I felt at home.

“I can hear you just fine, no need to shout, Wildfire,” Marion teased, smirking at me. God, he looked so damn good—khaki shorts, a crisp summer shirt, and dark shades that ...