Page 81 of Playing My Rivals

He leans into my hand. “That you are.”

My heart swells and my skin pebbles. My chest fills with love.

A heaviness presses on my lungs. I can’t tell him how I feel until I’ve tied up my loose ends with Hunter. Jami’s been right all along. He deserves my undivided love and affection.

We’ve got to figure out our obstacles before we can dive into a relationship, though. Telling him I love him will only confuse him. And after what I just witnessed, I’m not about to do that to him now.

I force the thought away. We have other things we need to figure out. I try to start the car, but it won’t turn over. He gets out and fiddles with the wires, but nothing works. It’s getting darker by the second.

He gets inside and slams his door shut. “I don’t know what to do. You’re going to freeze if I don’t figure out something.”

“I saw a cabin on the side of the road about a mile away. We can hike to it and pray someone lives there.” I glance over my shoulder and down the road. “It’s only going to get colder and darker. If you want to give it a shot, we need to go now.”

He nods and gathers the towels from the backseat. “They’re wet, but it’s another layer we can use. I can’t believe I didn’t think to bring an umbrella or wear a decent jacket. It’s not like I don’t know how cold it can get up here.”

I grab the water bottles and shove them into a bag. “We thought we were going directly into a warm place. We couldn’t have predicted this. Quit beating yourself up.”

“They fucking teach this in basic driver's ed. Always pack an emergency kit,” he mutters as he pushes the car door open.

I get out with my legs almost numb from the cold. I start trekking down the road. He marches beside me and holds a towel over my head to block the rain.

I peek over at him. “We can run if you want, but you can’t hold that towel over me if we do.”

He weighs his options as we trudge through the downpour.

“I think we should do it. Your body is shaking and your teeth are going to break the way they’re chattering so hard.” He nods to signal I take off. “I’ll follow you.”

I pick up my pace. My legs are still hard to feel so I hope I don’t trip and fall. If that happens, Jami might jump off the cliff due to the level of guilt he would be sure to have.

He jogs next to me as I get into a groove. “It’s only a mile. I’m going to take it up a notch. I’m warmed up enough that I won’t tear anything. How are you?”

“I’m good. I can go as fast as you want. But I don’t know where I’m going. You’ll have to lead.”

I wave him on. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

We pick up a pace to the point where I’m struggling to pull air into my lungs. My legs scream for me to stop. At times, they cramp like they're going to seize, but I push through.

“Dori, we’ve gone more than a mile.” Jamison’s words pull me out of my suffering.

Storm clouds block the moonlight, making it difficult to see beyond the edge of the road lined with patches of trees. Every once in a while, there’s a small clearing. The cabin is in one of those.

I stop and sweep the terrain with my eyes, gasping for air. “Are you sure we’ve gone further than a mile?”

“I’m pretty sure. Either that or we’re colder than we realize.” He bends over and rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath.

I try to find something I recognize along the side of the road, but it’s too dark. My gut tells me to keep going. Right as I turn and look down the road, a cloud moves and a moonbeam lights up the space where I think the house is.

“There it is.” I point and take off so we can use the little lighting we have.

He’s on my heels moments later. The rain lightens up, and the moonlight stays out as we make it through a wet field and squishy marsh on our way to the cabin. No lights are on inside. I’m not very hopeful anyone will be there.

It’s further away than I thought it was. We’re freezing and trying to breathe when we step onto the porch. Jamison cups his hands against the window and leans to peek in.

“No one is here. I’m going to have to break in.” He wraps the towel around his elbow and smashes a glass panel right above the doorknob.

He sticks his hand in to unlock the door. “Fuck. It’s a deadbolt lock without a latch to unlock it. We need a key.”

He steps back and stares at the door, willing it to crumble under the weight of his glare. There’s a pot full of dirt near the edge of the porch that catches my eye.

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