Chapter 7

7

Rush

I can hardly believe I talked Adison into staying for a second game. For not being around competitive sports growing up and having absolutely no interest in college football, she’s learned a lot today and seems to be enjoying her time.

My phone pings with a weather notification. I grab the phone from my nightstand.

“Whoa. Check this out.”

Adison leans in, her soft cheek against my scruff.

Her eyes widen. She hops off the bed, pulls the shade aside, and peers outside.

She gasps. “Look at that sky.” She turns to me, concern on her face. “I need to get home.”

The wind howls and raindrops are just starting to pound against my windowpane.

“I’m sorry.” I point to my ankle. “I can’t drive you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll walk.”

I shake my head. “No way. Not in that. You’ll be soaked. Besides, it’s dangerous.”

Adison slips her sandals on and loads her books into her backpack. “I’m sure it’ll blow over quickly.”

Adison is a smart girl, but not good with her weather forecasting. The rain pounds a little harder.

The first bolt of lightning sends her crawling across my bed and practically into my lap.

“This is why I wanted to go home,” she says quietly.

The thunder roars and she gasps. She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face in my chest.

When I was growing up, I loved watching thunderstorms. The clouds would spin, and the sky would become unsettled— almost wrathful. Powerful. Then, the skies would open up and the rain would pound on the windows of our house. I would lay on my bed for the duration and savor the power and mystery of it all.

“Are you scared?” I rub my hand gently up and down her back. She shakes.

“Maybe.”

Another bolt of lightning and she whimpers. Her hot breath brushes over my chest and the aroma of her hair sends a lightning bolt straight through me. This little firecracker has gotten to me— under my skin and in my heart. I want to protect her and make her mine.

“It’s okay. Really, it is. I’m here and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She looks up at me with her bottom lip sticking out.

Oh, I could kiss those lips.

“You can’t protect me if this house blows down. This is why I wanted to go home. I don’t like people seeing me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like afraid!” She gives my stomach a light punch and buries her face back into my chest.

I chuckle and then immediately regret it. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“I’m not only scared, but I’m also embarrassed.”

“Why? Because you’re afraid of storms?”

She nods into my chest, shivering.

I pull her closer. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. A lot of people don’t like storms. Besides everybody is afraid of something.”

She looks up at me again. “I bet you’re not.”

“What? Afraid of something? I am.”

She tips her head to the side and smirks. “Right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

She shrugs. “Not really. What are you afraid of?”

“I can’t tell you or you’ll laugh.”

Her face is serious. “I won’t laugh.” She taps her finger on her chin. “The dark?”

Another bolt of lightning strikes and she winces in my arms.

“No.” I chuckle and wag my eyebrows. “Actually, I do some of my best work in the dark.”

She rolls her eyes. “Spiders?”

“Keep guessing.”

Another lightning strike illuminates the summer sky, and a roll of thunder pushes her body even closer to mine.

“Snakes?”

“I thought you’d get it by now.”

“I give up.”

“Clowns.”

“What?”

“Clowns. I’m afraid of clowns.”

“Clowns? Like clowns with a red nose? The ones that make balloon animals?” Adison laughs. “No way. You’re making it up.”

“I’m not. Just ask my brother.”

“I don’t know your brother.”

“True.”

“What happened? You have some bad experience with a clown or something?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Ever since I was a kid, they just creep me out.”

I rub her back. She shakes and clings to me.

A loud pop rocks the room and everything goes black.

I close my eyes tightly and let out a groan. It’s been torture having her this close to me all day and not touching her, but now that we’re on my bed.

Alone.

In the dark.

My hands coil into tight balls. I want to touch her, hold her, make everything right in her world.

The only sound in the room is Adison’s ragged breathing.

“Oh shit,” she whispers. “That can’t be good.”