Chapter 8

8

Adison

One minute it’s raining, I’m slipping into my sandals and the next minute, I’m enveloped in Rush’s arms.

I slip off the bed and peer out the window into the darkness. A few power lines are draped onto the street.

Great. Just great.

There’s a tap on the door. “Rush. You in there?”

“Enter.”

The door opens and Pat’s flashlight illuminates the dark bedroom.

“Just checking to see who’s home.” She pauses. “Oh, hello.”

“Hey Pat, this is Adison.”

We exchange pleasantries.

“You guys need to stay put. The reports are saying power lines are down. We’re supposed to shelter in place and, according to radar, the storm is far from finished.”

“Yeah, I was just looking at radar on my phone. Doesn’t look good.”

“You may want to spend the night here, Adison.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

Spend the night? Here?

“Oh? I?—”

“Hey Pat,” comes a deep voice from behind her.

Pat turns her flashlight toward the hallway.

“Where’d you come from?” she says to one of Rush’s housemates. “You’re soaked.”

Pat closes the bedroom door. The only light in the room is from Rush’s cell phone screen.

My stomach churns and grumbles.

“You hungry? I do have some snacks on top of the fridge.”

“Not hungry.”

My stomach is invaded by a mob of butterflies.

Why didn’t I pay closer attention to the weather instead of getting all wrapped up in the excitement of this day?

The lightning snaps and illuminates the room. I gasp and a small whimper escapes from my throat.

Rush studies me, concern on his face. He sets the cell phone aside. “You’re scared?” He holds open his arms to me. “Come here.”

I slide into his protective embrace and let out a sigh.

Safe.

Rush

Adison paces around my bedroom like a nervous cat. She goes between the window and sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Doesn’t look any better out there,” she says as she peers out the window.

She sits down on the bed and I take her gently by the wrist.

“Adison.” She turns to me. “You heard Pat. They don’t want anyone outside until they can make sure everything’s safe. You’re gonna have to spend the night here.”

She nods. “I know. I already texted my roommate.”

Adison shines her cell phone around my room until it lands on a chair by the window. “I’ll just sleep over in that chair.” She points the light to my clunky side chair I bought at a secondhand store that’s piled with my books, some football gear, a small cooler, and a shoebox.

She hands me her cell phone. “Can you shine your cell phone over here so I can clear away some of this stuff?”

I grin. “Sweetheart, that chair isn’t very friendly. It doesn’t mind holding my gear, but it isn’t fit for holding humans.”

She sits down precariously on the arm of the swivel rocker and the chair wobbles and groans its disapproval.

She hops up. “Yikes.”

“Sorry. That chair has a list of victims.”

“Maybe I can put a few blankets down on the floor and make a bed. I don’t mind?—”

“Sweetheart, I’m not letting you sleep on the hard floor. Don’t be ridiculous.” I pat the space beside me. “Come on, you can sleep up here. I can be a good boy.”

A flutter of guilt passes through me. She’s so innocent and adorable.

And I’m not sure if she wants a good boy or…

A bad one.