I grabbed my hood, snatched the umbrella I kept in the back seat, then stepped out into the rain. That shit hit the umbrella immediately, cold and heavy. I jogged to Stormie’s carand tapped on the window. She looked up, and even through the rain and glass, I saw the relief flood her face.
She opened the door, and I stepped back to give her room. “Oh my God, thank you!” she said, climbing out with her hot pink duffle bag.
With the umbrella now over her, the rain thundered down, soaking through my hoodie. I took her bag from her, slinging it over my shoulder. “You a’ight?”
“I am now.” She looked up at me, rain already plastering her hair to her face. “Thank you for coming.”
“Stormie,” I said her name like a statement, like it should be obvious. “You know I’m always gonna come get you.”
The rain poured down between us, and for a second, something shifted in her eyes. Something that looked a lot like the thoughts I’d been trying not to have. Then she smiled, that bright, deflecting smile, and the moment passed.
“Come on,” she tugged on my hoodie. “Let’s get out of this rain before we both drown.”
I opened the passenger door of my car for her, waited until she was inside, then jogged around to the driver’s side. I slid in, tossing her bags and umbrella in the back, water dripping everywhere.
“Jesus, Kade, you’re drenched.” Stormie was already reaching for the towel I kept in the backseat, and before I could stop her, she was leaning over, patting my face dry like I couldn’t do it myself.
Her hands were close. Too fucking close. I could smell her perfume, her usual Marc Jacobs scent that I could never get out of my head. “I got it,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant it to. I took the towel from her, our fingers brushing, and I swear I felt that touch everywhere.
She sat back, fastening her seatbelt. “Sorry. I just–you didn’t have to get out in that.”
“What the hell was I gon’ do, make you swim to the car?” I cranked the heat and pulled back onto the road, windshield wipers working overtime. “Besides, you looked pathetic sitting there all alone.”
“Wow. Rude ass.”
“I’m just saying. You had that whole ‘damsel in distress’ vibe going on.”
“I was not in distress. I was strategically waiting for rescue.”
I glanced over at her, and she was grinning, and damn if that didn’t make everything worth it. The rain, the drive, the way my heart was doing double-time just from having her this close. “How bad is the car?” I asked.
“Dead. Like, I think it might have actually given up on life. There was smoke and everything.”
“A’ight, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Get it towed to Malcolm’s shop.”
“You don’t have…”
“Storm,” I said it firmly, final. “Let me worry about that. Right now, we need to get to the cabin before this shit getsworse.” She was quiet for a second, and I could feel her looking at me in that way she did sometimes, like she was trying to figure something out. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just... thank you. For real.”
I reached over, squeezing her knee once without thinking, and I felt her go still under my hand. Realized what I’d done and pulled back, gripping the steering wheel instead. “That’s what I’m here for,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road.
The rain hammered down, the cabin was still forty minutes away, and Storm was sitting in my passenger seat smelling like heaven and looking at me like maybe, for once, she felt this shit too. This weekend was going to be a problem. I could feel it already.
The heat from where Kade’s hand had been on my knee lingered as I stared out the window at the rain. I was trying to get my breathing under control, trying to pretend that casual touch hadn’t sent electricity straight through my entire body. It was just Kade. The same person who’d seen me with the flu, who’d held me during my mother’s final days. Except he wasn’t just Kade anymore, was he?
“You good?” His voice cut through my spiral, smooth and low in the darkness of the car.
“Yeah, just... processing the fact that my car is officially dead and I’m gonna be eating ramen for the next three months to afford the repairs.”
“Stop. You make good money. Besides, I’ll handle it.”
“Kade…”
“Storm.” Again, Kade said my name the same way he always did at the end of the conversation. “We’re not doing this. You need help, I gotchu. That’s how this works.”
I looked at him, dashboard lights outlining his strong jaw and focused eyes. One hand gripped the wheel, the other rested on his thigh. His gray sweatpants should’ve been illegal, and his damp hoodie clung to his chest, making my mouth go dry.