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No.
There were a shit ton of sparklers and fireworks packages at the other end, right near her. Dylan grabbed the edge of the tablecloth and suffocated the fire completely just as Derek dumped the cooler of lemonade over the entire area. Dylan yanked the fireworks off the table and threw them into the cool grass as far as possible from any stray sparks, shielding little Felicity from the ashes. When he was satisfied all the danger was gone, he backed away from the table, breathing hard.
As if the volume of the world turned back up, the roars of laughter grew, overtaking the ringing in his ears. Brooks and Anderson were doubled over with laughter.
“Who gave Dilly a lighter?” His dad called out.
Brooks yelled back. “Felicity, come on. You know the rules about Dilly and fire.”
Felicity’s face was beyond outrage. “If Calvin wasn’t such a lazy asshole and could walk the ten steps to the recycling bin, I wouldn’t have almost got lit on fire.”
“Language, Felicity,” Anderson shouted back. “My kids are here.”
Felicity’s voice dropped to a venomous mutter. “Pretty sure they’re gonna be very aware of the word asshole with a douchewad as their dad.”
Derek grabbed Dylan. “You okay?”
Dylan caught his breath, speechless with what could have happened. Little Felicity had been three steps away from the side of the table with all those fireworks right there with her hair out and wild from a day of pool and sun. It could have easily gotten hit with a spark. Cal had grabbed his daughter once he realized what was happening, but he could have been too late if the fire had spread too quickly.
Dylan ran a hand over his hair. “Shit.”
“I’m so sorry.” Derek shook his head and held onto Dylan’s upper arms. “My hand was stuck and then my foot caught on the bottom of the table.” His hands slid down to Dylan’s wrists, checking him for burns, running his thumb over the pink scar on Dylan’s palm from falling through the ceiling. “You didn’t get burned?”
Dylan shook his head.
Felicity did her own evaluation of Dylan, checking his arms and palms “You could have burned your damn hands off. Next time just wait—”
Dylan pointed to the sparklers and fireworks in the grass.
“Oh shit, little Felicity was right there.” Derek whistled low, realizing what had happened and why Dylan hadn’t waited for the fire extinguisher. “That could’ve been bad.”
Felicity rushed off to make sure her tiny namesake was okay.
“Yeah.” Dylan pointed to where the kid had been standing at the corner of the table. “I shouldn’t have been holding the lighter like that, but shit.”
Derek pulled him into a hug. “You cannot think that that was all your fault. God, Dylan. You could have really gotten hurt too. It was all a freak accident. More my fault than anyone’s.”
Brooks and Anderson pounced on Derek and Dylan. “Is it time?” they drawled in tandem.
“Oh, I think it’s time,” Calvin said.
“Time for?” Dylan’s dad asked, but then grinned. “Oh…”
“Guys, please…” Dylan pulled away from his brother’s grip. “No.”
“Time for what?” Derek asked.
“Y’all are such assholes.” Felicity said in a carrying whisper to Calvin. “Don’t pull this shit this year.”
“We need to give Derek the full Gallagher Grill-Out experience,” Brooks said.
“It’s just fun, Lady Lissy,” Dylan’s dad said, giving his daughter a little gesture that clearly said What’s the harm? He grabbed Dylan around the neck and mussed his hair. “The boys really missed having Dilly here.”
Dylan hadn’t had a panic attack since he started his new medications, but he could feel the beginnings forming in his chest. Pressure rattling right beneath his sternum, breaths too rapid.
He counted in his head and backed away a few steps.
Chapter 37