Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

The rumbleof thunder shakes me awake, a deep sound that feels like it"s resonating within my chest. As consciousness seeps back in, I"m immediately struck by the realization that the weather has other plans for us today—no flying in this storm. Part of me knows this should be a relief. The logical side of me argues that some distance between Claire and me might be wise, considering the tangled mess of emotions she"s stirred up inside me. Isn't that why I stayed here last night? To put some distance between us?

But as I lie there, staring at the ceiling with the sound of rain pelting the roof, I"m anything but relieved. The thought of not seeing her today, of not sharing those moments where the world seems to narrow down to just the two of us, is unexpectedly unsettling.

The rain should be soothing, a rhythm that lulls me back to sleep or at least into a state of calm reflection. Instead, it"s like a persistent reminder of what I"m trying to avoid facing—my growing attachment to Claire. I tell myself she"s likely still asleep, grateful for the break, maybe even relieved to not have to face another day teetering on the edge of her fears.

But then I remember yesterday—how she showed up ready and waiting before I even got to my jeep. She"s full of surprises, that one. The thought brings a reluctant smile to my face, even as the frustration with myself grows. Why am I like this? Since when did I become someone who hopes for the company of another, who looks forward to the thrill of their presence?

I could just text her, let her know the lesson"s off due to the weather. It would be the sensible thing to do, the considerate thing even. But the very idea of reducing our interactions to a few words on a screen feels like a cop-out, an avoidance of the very real connection that"s been building between us.

With a sigh, I throw the covers back and swing my legs out of bed. The floor is cool under my feet, unlike the warmth of the bed I"m leaving behind. If Claire's anything like she was yesterday, she might just brave the storm, and I can"t risk her standing out there alone, waiting.

So, I get ready, pulling on clothes with mechanical movements while my mind races with possibilities and what-ifs. The rain is a steady drumbeat, a soundtrack to my thoughts as I grab my keys and head out the door.

As I walk to my jeep, I can"t shake the feeling that I"m doing exactly what I shouldn"t be—closing the distance between us when I should be setting boundaries. But then again, Claire has a way of making all those well-intentioned resolutions seem insignificant. And as much as I hate to admit it, I"m hoping, maybe even a little bit more than just hoping, that she"ll be there.