Introducing Fire and Smoke

For my NaNo project (National Novel Writing Month), I've decided to work on the Embers and Flame sequel, tentatively titled Fire and Smoke. It's going to be Vaughn and Daryl's story. My goal is to make it into a light-hearted romance without a great deal of angst. Probably not going to happen. When I write, the angst just always finds its way in. So anyway, I like to have the first few pages set before I start the serious writing. I know I'll edit it 10 times in the next week, but here's the first draft. Opinions?

(just for reference, the incident that Vaughn and Lindsey are talking about happened in the first book and entailed Vaughn following her brother into the bathroom, where he proceeded to get a bit too handsy.)

Chapter One

“I thought you said your brother was working tonight,” I hissed to my green-haired companion.

“Relax, Vaughn. I must’ve got my days mixed up. Maybe he works tomorrow? Er, no. Oh, it’s Wednesday!” She smiled as if she was waiting for some kind of congratulations, but shrugged when none was forthcoming. “Why? You still worried about fondling Cherry that time?”

“Shit, Lindsey, I more than fondled him. I molested him. All because you said he gave me his ‘come-hither’ look.” I’d apologized after Cherry came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and rubbing a towel across his head, getting the moisture out of his thick, auburn hair. But the man’s eyes were troubled as he narrowed them as if he hadn’t understood the words. I would have thought it was because of what I’d done, but he’d looked right through me.

Lindsey scoffed. “You said you were sorry, he accepted it. Move on.”

I was sure she was wrong so I tucked my chin into my chest as I met him in the hallway. With a last tug, Lindsey pulled me through her door and knocked me back onto the bed. I finally relaxed and rolled over. Vanilla. Everything in this apartment smelled like vanilla, including the people. Lindsey’s pillow and sheets reeked of it, but it smelled natural to me now. It smelled like security. I huffed a laugh; I’d slept with Lindsey more than I had any lover from my past.

There were vanilla-scented candles here and there, and the shampoo and body wash were vanilla-based. Lindsey insisted it was hers but I suspected they were Cherry’s first and she’d commandeered them. I’ve known her for three years and she hadn’t smelled like a sugar cookie until this summer. It was in character, though; my deodorant would come up missing periodically and she’d smelled like Axe for weeks. Which was okay. I don’t like Axe but Mom kept sending it. Back when she still sent things.  

“So, Cherry and that guy? They’re really serious?” Vaughn asked as nonchalantly as he could.

“Ben,” she said as she rummaged through a laundry basket of clean but rumpled clothes, searching for the boxer shorts and t-shirt she usually slept in. Holding them up triumphantly, she continued. “His name’s Ben and he’s totally hot. I’m not sure how brother Charlie hooked up with someone that gorgeous. Dark eyes, dark hair. A body to die for.”

I sat up and turned away as she stripped down to change, her bra flying past my head as she laughed. Trying to hide my smile, I kicked off my shoes and tugged at my socks. “Cherry...Charles...” What was I supposed to call him? “He’s cute.”

“Not as cute as me,” she said as she jumped on the bed knees first. She may have been 22 years old, but there were times when she acted more like a 12-year-old.