Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) by Abigail Boyd Read Free Book Online

talking about himself. Unwelcome memories—of him dating Lainey because his father told him to, of the strange way he’d acted when he’d pulled away from me—nagged at my attention. I pushed them away, focusing on the present.
    “I wish I could slow time down,” I said, turning my head towards him. He smiled up at the sky.
    “I don’t think it would ever slow down enough. You’d still want certain moments to last forever.”
    He gazed at me, both of our heads back against the hood. His eyes were full of unspoken feelings. I suddenly found it harder to breathe. Leaning over me, his lips pressed against mine, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer.
    I shut my eyes and surrendered to the moment, just him and me. Then I thought I heard a faint sound from off on the road. My eyes flashed open and I stretched back. A glow lit up the snow banks at the far end of the lot. Henry’s car was the only one parked here, but the light was growing stronger.
    “I think there might be a car coming,” I whispered, sliding out from beneath him. The whir of a motor followed, cementing my suspicion. We watched the headlights become bigger and brighter against the snow. Henry tensed up beside me, and I could feel worry running off of him. Instead of passing us on the road, the car was going to come into the lot.
    Henry and I scrambled off of the hood, on opposite sides. He snatched the checkered blanket that had been beneath us and rushed into his car through the driver’s side after me.
    I hunched down, watching a beaten-up old Dodge slide into the parking lot. We both held our breath, tension filling the cab. The Dodge spun out in two donuts, then shot right back onto the road again with its tires skidding.
    “Drunk driver,” Henry said, exhaling. We exchanged a nervous laugh.
    “That was a close one,” I said.
    “We don’t even know if that was anyone important,” Henry countered, as if to convince himself.
    But our little unofficial date was over. He started up the engine and I buckled my seat belt, feeling morose and angry. As he drove out of the parking lot, I stared out of the window. Shadow shapes darkened the area around the forest. As I looked closer, the shadows weren’t shifting or waving like those cast by the trees. Instead of graceful movements, they seemed to twitch and jerk unnaturally. The hair on my arms stood up stiffly in response.
    It was just my paranoia giving form to the shadows. At least that’s what I told myself, once we’d left them safely behind. But my own worried eyes in the mirror didn’t believe me.
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    The orphanage is creating the fire. Not being hurt by it.
    I realized this standing at the base of the split staircase, heat screaming against my face. My hair flew around me in all directions. The building should have been reduced to cinders by now; however, the orange flames continued to crackle and snap. There was no indication that the building was going to fall or even break.
    The orphanage’s siren call was luring me in. It took a strong dose of willpower to hold me still.
    “You’ve got to wonder what Dexter is made out of,” Ambrose said beside me.
    I jumped, not realizing he’d joined me. He was watching the fire with reverence, severe shadows etched across his face. He was one of the many exceptions to the rule that beauty can’t be evil.
    “I was just thinking about that, actually,” I said. “Are you going inside with me?”
    “Nope, not me.” Ambrose shoved his hands in the tuxedo pockets and rocked forward on his wingtips. “That’s all your rodeo. I have no interest in this old haunt—never really did. I was along for the ride.”
    Charred shingles from the roof tumbled down and crashed to the ground like rocks.
    “Why are you following me, then?” I asked.
    “I have no idea,” Ambrose said, sounding put upon. “You’re spinning this web, I just got caught in your thread.”
    Enlightenment crossed his face. Ambrose reached out and bumped my