Page 7 of Whirlwind

My lips part, the question“What if I don’t want you to be careful?”on the tip of my tongue, but nothing comes out.

Ryker’s attention moves to my lips, and his own mouth parts. He shifts on his feet again, his now phone-free hand moving as if he’s going to cup my cheek. My eyes start to flutter shut, his intense and alluring presence clouding my judgment. I feel the ghost of his fingertips on my jaw as a loud boom of thunder claps in the distance.

The spell between us breaks, and Ryker steps back. I blink a few times, trying to regain my bearings after being so close to him.

I open my mouth to speak, but Ryker takes out his phone from his back pocket and studies it. If I didn’t know him well, I’d think what just happened between us didn’t faze him, but I see the way his jaw clenches, and the veins in his neck are taut. He’s going to pretend like he didn’t nearly come within a breath of kissing his student.

The thought is a grounding reminder, and my rational brain comes back online. If I’m going to get through this weekend with him—and the next school year, for that matter—I need to pretend that didn’t happen. Even if it hurts my heart to do so.

To clear my head, I open up the radar on my phone and consider my route for chasing. I’m not going to let this interaction get in the way of taking my photos tonight—if anything, I’m more fueled to go now.

“The supercell to the east shows strong signs of rotation,” Ryker says, making me look back at him. “And the lifted condensation level is low enough for tornado formation. The—” He’s cut off by a phone alert. “Tornado warning right over Cattle Creek.”

He grins like he was before we almost kissed and shifts my backpack over his shoulder, the one he’s made no move to give me.

“I had the same thought,” I say. “I’m going to head out so I don’t miss it.” I hold my hand out, pointing to my backpack. He gives me a strange look before simply adjusting the heavy strap over his shoulder.

“Are you chasing solo?” he asks.

“If I can get my backpack with my car keys in it from you, then yes.”

That makes him smile, and his body relaxes a bit as he chuckles. “I was on my way to chase, too, if you hadn’t put that together.”

I nod at him, having already guessed that.

“My team is already in Oklahoma, so it’s just me. We could go together?” he asks. His tone is so hopeful, it makes my stomach flip-flop.

I blink at him. After what just happened between us, I figured the last thing he’d want is to be in a car with me—it should probably be the last thing I want, too. But the thought of chasing with him alone has me too excited. And it’s not only because of my attraction to him, it’s because he’sTheTwister Tamer. Both teenage and current-adult Finley are freaking out at his offer.

“Really?”

“Safety in numbers,” he says matter-of-factly. But the glimmer in his eye tells me it’s more than that. Lots of people chase solo; it’s not uncommon.

“Right. Always good to be safe.”

We both smirk at each other, my stomach filling with more butterflies as another clap of thunder echoes overhead.

Ryker glances at his phone. “Are you in? Because we gotta go now.”

I don’t debate my options, because there is no debate. “I’m in.”

“Then let’s go, Ms. Buckley. We’ve got a twister to tame.”

Chapter three

Ryker

We’ve got a twisterto tame—who the fuck even says that out loud? Me, apparently. I’m that asshole.

I don’t take my words back, though, because my internet-famous saying makes Finley chuckle, the sound soft and lyrical. I relish in it, in the musicality and femininity of it. Especially when I spend most of my time around men who are the complete opposite of her. Men that laugh with their guts or hardly at all.

“Do you want to take my car or yours?”

Her question shakes me out of my thoughts—thoughts I shouldn’t be having about my student—as we walk quickly beside each other toward campus parking.

“What kind of car do you have?” I ask.

“A compact SUV.”

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