Festival Wispers

The next morning dawned gray and damp, the kind of Pacific Northwest summer day that made you want to stay curled under blankets with coffee and a book. But Willow Creek had other plans. The annual Summer Festival was only three weeks away, and the planning committee had sent out a group text at 7 a.m. calling for volunteers to help with setup at the town square. Amina groaned from her spot at the kitchen table, spoon halfway to her mouth with cereal. “Why do they always schedule these things so early? I’m still recovering from Seattle.” I sat across from her, nursing my second cup of coffee, trying to ignore the way my body still hummed from Elias slipping into my room last night. He hadn’t touched me sexually — just held me close, his big hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles while he whispered how much he missed having me all to himself. The clinginess was becoming addictive. Every quiet “you’re mine” against my hair made the guilt sharper and the desire deeper. Elias walked in from the garage, wiping sawdust from his hands onto a rag. He wore an old gray Henley that stretched across his chest and jeans that sat low on his hips. His eyes found me immediately, softening with that now-familiar mix of hunger and tenderness. “Morning, girls,” he said, voice rough from sleep. “Committee needs help with the booths today. I told Mrs. Delgado we’d swing by after breakfast.” Amina sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if there’s free coffee from Bean & Bloom.” “Deal,” Elias replied, but his gaze lingered on me a second longer. Under the table, his foot nudged mine — a secret hello that sent warmth up my leg. We finished eating quickly. Amina ran upstairs to change while Elias stepped closer to me at the sink, his chest brushing my back as he reached for a glass. “Last night was perfect,” he murmured low enough for only me to hear. “Waking up with you in my arms… I could get used to that. Too used to it.” I leaned back into him for a brief moment, savoring the solid warmth. “Me too. But we have to be careful today. The whole town will be there.” His hand settled on my hip, squeezing once possessively. “I know. Doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to steal a minute alone with you.” The drive to the town square was short but charged. Amina chattered in the backseat about festival ideas for her design internship — colorful banners, sustainable signage. Elias drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close enough that his pinky brushed my thigh whenever he shifted gears. Every touch felt deliberate, clingy in the best way, like he couldn’t stand even a few inches of distance. The square was already buzzing when we arrived. Booths were half-assembled under strings of fairy lights that would glow at night. Mrs. Delgado waved us over from the central stage area, clipboard in hand, her silver hair tied back with a bright scarf. “Elias! Girls! Perfect timing. Zara, I need your creative eye for the game booth layout. Amina, you’re on signage with Lena. Elias, the heavy lifting — those wooden frames won’t move themselves.” Tyler and Mia were already there, hammering stakes into the grass. Lena bounced over with trays of coffee from the café, pink hair bright against the gray sky. “My heroes! Caffeine for everyone. Zara, you look glowy. Summer agreeing with you?” I accepted a cup with a laugh that felt only slightly forced. “Something like that.” We split into groups. Amina and Lena worked on large vinyl banners nearby, laughing and debating color schemes. Tyler and Marcus (the quiet bike shop owner) helped Elias carry heavy wooden frames from the truck. I ended up sketching game layouts on a notebook Mrs. Delgado provided — ring toss, balloon darts, a fishing pond for the kids. Every so often I’d glance up and catch Elias watching me. He’d be lifting a beam, muscles flexing under his shirt, sweat glistening on his forehead despite the cool air, but his eyes would find mine across the square. A small smile. A subtle nod. Once, when no one was looking, he mouthed “beautiful” before turning back to his work. The morning stretched into afternoon with more volunteers arriving. Sarah from the library brought sandwiches and fruit for everyone. We ate picnic-style on the grass, the group expanding into easy conversation. Tyler told funny stories about his latest failed dating app attempt. Mia teased Amina about the barista who kept writing his number on her cups. Mrs. Delgado shared gossip about the mayor’s latest proposal for more bike lanes. I sat between Amina and Elias — close enough that his knee pressed against mine under the blanket we’d spread out. The contact was innocent to anyone watching, but to me it felt like fire. His hand rested casually on the grass behind me, fingers occasionally brushing the small of my back when he leaned to grab a napkin. “You’re doing great with those sketches,” he said quietly during a lull, voice pitched for me alone. “Always had a good eye. Makes me want to show you the new community center plans later… in private.” Heat flushed my cheeks. “Behave.” “Trying,” he replied, thumb stroking once along my spine. “Failing.” Amina suddenly turned to me. “Zara, what do you think — bright teal for the signage or soft sage? You’re the environmental science girl; sustainability vibes matter.” I forced my attention back to the group. “Sage. It’ll pop against the green trees without clashing with the festival lights.” Lena nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Zara gets it.” The afternoon blurred into more work. We painted booth frames, strung lights, tested the sound system for the live music stage. At one point, Elias needed help holding a tall ladder while he secured a banner high up. Amina was busy with Lena, so I stepped in. “Hold it steady,” he said from above, but when I gripped the sides, his leg brushed my shoulder as he climbed down. Once on the ground, he stayed close, pretending to check the stability while his hand found mine for a brief, hidden squeeze. “You’re killing me today,” he whispered. “Watching you laugh with everyone, looking so happy and at home here. Makes me want to pull you behind the stage and kiss you until you can’t breathe.” My pulse raced. “Later. When it’s safe.” He nodded, but his eyes promised more. By late afternoon the square looked transformed — booths taking shape, lights ready, a small stage for local bands. Mrs. Delgado called everyone together for a quick thank-you. “You all are the heart of this town,” she said warmly. “Elias, that deck you built last year is still everyone’s favorite photo spot. Girls, your energy is infectious. Can’t wait for opening night.” As the group dispersed, Tyler invited us all to his place for a casual pizza night. “Nothing fancy. Just hanging out. Parents are out of town.” Amina was in. So was Lena and her girlfriend. Elias hesitated, glancing at me. “I’ll come too,” he said finally. “Make sure you kids don’t get into too much trouble.” Tyler laughed. “Mr. Carter as chaperone? Classic.” The evening at Tyler’s house was relaxed — backyard string lights, pizza boxes on the picnic table, music playing from a speaker. Amina and Lena danced silly in the grass. Tyler and Marcus debated sports. Mia pulled me into a conversation about college life. Elias stayed close but not obviously so — sitting on the edge of the group, nursing a beer, eyes tracking me whenever I moved. When I went inside to grab more napkins, he followed a minute later. The kitchen was empty. He backed me gently against the counter, hands on either side of me. “Been waiting for this all day,” he breathed. His mouth hovered near mine, not quite kissing. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch you and not touch you the way I want.” His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel him half-hard against my hip. “Elias,” I whispered, glancing toward the door. “Someone could walk in.” “Then they’ll see a dad helping with dishes.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw. “But I see my girl. The one who rode me so perfectly two nights ago. The one who lets me fill her up and still wants more.” A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it. His fingers traced the hem of my shirt, slipping underneath to stroke bare skin.