Page 33 of Whirlwind

“Ms. Buckley, if this is too much after yesterday, please let me know,” Ryker says.

A minute ago, he was acting like my professor, helping me with soft direction until I decided what route we should take, but this statement upsets me. I hate not only the tone he used but everything about it as well. His words make me feel as if I can’t handle being here, as if I’m weak. I also hate that he’s saying it in front of Joey. It’s embarrassing, and I’m glad Hawk is no longer on the phone to hear it.

I turn my focus to my idiot professor, leveling him with my best glare. Even with access to only his profile, I can see his forehead is pinched and his hands have a death-grip on the wheel like he did for almost the entire drive to Oklahoma.

“Is it too much for you,Professor West?” I fire back.

“Ooooh,” Joey says under his breath. Then I think he mutters something to the effect ofdon’t piss off the Shark,but I’m too annoyed right now to know for sure.

“It would make sense for you to be nervous after what happened. Yesterday was intense,” Ryker adds, ignoring my question.

If Joey wasn’t in the car, I’d probably ask him if he meant the storm or his dick buried in his student’s pussy, but that wouldn’t help either of our situations—or my raging thoughts of inadequacy. I’m also highly aware that the dash camera is recording. I send a quick prayer in thanks that this isn’t being broadcasted live to his one-million followers.

“I’m not nervous.”At least not about the storm.

“It’s okay if you are,” Ryker prods.

My hands grip the edge of the laptop I’m holding, and I swallow down the frustrated noise that’s building in my throat. I wonder: If Joey was the one trapped in the storm with him yesterday, would he be this concerned? Or would they be talking about how it was the coolest thing that’s ever happened to them?

I look back down at the radar to ease the frustration that’s now simmering toward anger. I hate that Ryker, my biggest cheerleader and mentor, is part of the reason I’m evenquestioning myself—and his reasons for picking me to be here, for that matter. If we get the chance to be alone, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind and tell him to start acting normal.

“I’m good, I promise.” My voice manages to come out level, and I even smile at Joey before pointing ahead. “Take this dirt road here, then we should hit a paved road.”

Ryker doesn’t push the subject further—thank god—he just turns the wheel as Joey rubs his hands together, finally placated. “This has gotta bethestorm. I feel it in my knees,” he says.

A laugh bursts out of me, and I’m grateful for the release. “Your knees?”

“Yeah. My joints start aching when a good one is coming.” Joey waggles his eyebrows in a flirty way, and I’m once again glad he’s here. He always knows how to ease tension and make things light, a trait I once attributed to Ryker. Had we not had sex, I think he’d be acting like the man on his live chases or during class instead of this stick-up-his-ass version of himself.

I’ve seen small glimpses of his true self, like when he grinned at Joey over Thor and the superhero reference or when he hugged Ezra and Hawk after we arrived. Even that comment a moment ago that helped me through my nerves. But mostly he’s been, well…this downgraded version of himself.

“Hey!” Ryker yells, surprising both me and Joey. “Look at that ripper—it’s a funnel cloud for sure, there in the center. Do you both see it?”

I lean forward in my seat, and rain starts to hit the windshield as I look out. My heart thumps faster, and I rein in my sour emotions—I’m going to stay focused on what matters.

“I see it,” I say.

“Me, too,” Joey adds. “I think it’s getting ready to go berserk.”

“Holy shit.” Ryker’s voice changes to awe, sounding more like his Twister Tamer persona. My heart beats even faster now. “Get ready to launch your drone, Joey.”

“Woohoo, hoo, hoo-wee!” Joey hollers as a cell phone rings again. This time, it’s Ryker’s phone, and he connects the call through Thor’s Bluetooth speaker.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“There could be a tornado nearly above us—you see those rain curtains?” Hawk says.

“Copy that,” Ryker responds, gaze flashing to mine.

I know what he’s doing: checking to make sure I’m not freaking out at the prospect of a tornado almost on top of us. But I didn’t need Hawk to tell me that information; I was about to say the same thing. I think Hawk is used to being in my position instead of in the truck behind—not that I mind. It’s good to have this many eyes on a storm. Often, a chase team works collectively instead of sticking to their roles one-hundred-percent, especially where spotting is concerned. I’m sure Ryker and Joey also knew.

“Keep going down this road,” I say, threading as much confidence into my voice as possible. “That paved one you need to take a right on should be coming up. Be aware of traffic and maybe other chasers.”

Ryker focuses back on the road, and I think I see a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Not sure what that’s about, but I’m not going to let myself care.

“Hawk boy, you got your rocket ready?” Joey asks as gets his drone set.

“My rocket is always ready,” Hawk retorts.

---