Page 14 of Stolen Summer

I took a deep, controlled breath to keep my heart from spiking. Car rides made me nervous. More so when I wasn’t the driver. Lack of control, my therapist had informed me. “Technically, this SUV could be your metaphorical horse.”

Quinn,” he said lowly.

I shivered, not liking how my body responded to the way he spoke my name. How could it betray me? I wanted to pretend it was a chill that made me react. Regardless of the reason, it infuriated me. “How did you even know to pick me up? Were you waiting for me like some kind of stalker?”

Cole cocked his brow. “And if I was?”

Was it the close quarters that suddenly made me hyperaware of him? “I’d tell you to pull the car over and let me the hell out. I don’t need any more crazy in my life.”

The wind battered against the car, but Cole handled the drive with ease. I hated to admit it was impressive. “Your hair’s curlier than it was this morning.” He gave me another glance before focusing on the road.

“What?” I blinked, my clenched jaw slackening at the sudden change in topic.

The tension crackling between us faded to a simmer. It still lingered but not quite as intense. “Your hair. It has more waves or whatever.”

A scowl carved onto my lips. “Humidity loves to remind me who’s in control.”

We were only a few blocks from the Strand, the long stretch of homes along the beachfront. “The wildness suits you, Quinn.”

He drove faster than I liked, my heart picking up speed in my chest while I watched the view zoom past, and I gripped the door tightly. “Thank you, I think.” I heard the strain in my voice, but I didn’t want him to see how freaked out I was internally.

I stared at my house. We made it in record time, and I managed to not pass out. My gaze veered to Cole. “You did that on purpose? Didn’t you?” He kept me talking the whole way home, preoccupying and annoying me. So, he had noticed how stressed riding in the car made me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Quinn. Get inside before the storm sweeps you away.”

Pulling the hood over my head, I opened the door, dashing toward the front porch. The roof overhang offered some coverage from the storm. I watched his car fly out of my drive and go back down the road we’d just come from. Where the fuck is he going? Why didn’t he go home?

And why do I care?

Relieved to be inside the dry house, sheltered from the brutal winds and rain, I discarded my shoes and hoodie in search of clean clothes to change into. I passed the kitchen.

“Oh, good. You’re home,” Sadie said, the lines on her forehead softening. “Your father was worried.” A pot of coffee percolated behind her. She had a cup between her hands.

I leaned on the door frame. “They closed the diner due to the storm.”

“Ann and Forest are okay?” she inquired, her short but neat nails tapping lightly against the mug.

Nodding, I moved into the kitchen toward the coffee pot, unable to resist the smell any longer. “You should get going before it’s too late. It’s already bad out there.”

She pressed back against the counter, following me with her cornflower-blue eyes. “I could stay if you liked,” she offered. “Luca is with his dad this weekend.”

My hand paused on the coffee pot, and I glanced up. “You’re alone?”

Sadie gave me a sad smile, brushing aside wisps of blonde bangs that had fallen into her eyes. It was always hard when she didn’t have her son at home. “Just for the weekend.”

Having Sadie here would be a comfort to me and Dad too. I also sensed she didn’t want to go home to an empty house. “It would be great if you stayed.”

“I’ll make a pot of chili. It seems like that kind of night,” she said, her gaze shifting to the kitchen window that rattled under the force of the howling winds.

I couldn’t agree more.

Taking my coffee, I headed to my room at the opposite end of the house from Dad’s. Our house had a bedroom on each end with the hub of the living space in the middle. We’d been able to modify a few elements like his bedroom and the ramp off the porch, but there were still many things we could upgrade to make it easier for him to get around.

I closed the door behind me, setting my mug on my nightstand. A neat, folded pile of laundry sat on the bed with a familiar white tee on top. How Sadie found time to do household chores was beyond me. It wasn’t part of her job but just the kind of person she was. Sadie didn’t like to be idle.

Unable to stop myself from strolling to the bed, I stared at Cole’s shirt. It should have looked out of place sitting with my clothes, and yet, it didn’t. Alarming.

How was it I’d never seen or spoken to my neighbors ever, and now, their son was everywhere I turned? And why did he occupy so much of my thoughts?—

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