Page 120 of Yes No Maybe

I scream his name, but it gets caught in my throat as something strong hooks my waist, yanking me up to the solid floor again.

I turn into Jack’s arms, and he curses in my ear. “Damn it, Rowan. You scared me to death. What’re you doing?”

“Finding you!” My voice—my entire body—shakes. “I thought you were…”

He leans into me, his breath hitting my lips. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

I latch onto him, desperate and tearful. “I love you, you stupid jerk. Never do that to me again!”

“I love you, too.” A smile crooks the corner of his mouth. “You were about to claw through rubble for me? You must mean it.”

“I-I do. I… We stay together from now on!”

“Fine. But we can’t do anything here,” he says, shining a flashlight around the open space. Seeing the cloudy night sky through the broken roof and rain pouring inside the walls chills me—it’s weird and unsettling. “It’s too dark and unsafe… What about your place?”

“The damage is contained to the garage and porch.”

“Good. I’ll find Harper Lee, text the neighborhood that we’re fine, and we’ll stay there until the storm passes.”

Scanning the floor, my flashlight fixes on something on the floor near my rubber boots. I lean in, bracing myself on the intact threshold to grab it. Devin and Jack’s baseball picture. I swipe it across my shirt and tuck it into my pocket.

Jack grabs my hand, pulling me away from the mess. On the other side of the house, he flips the power off at the breaker. Then, we find Harper Lee hiding in a closet upstairs. Jack gently coaxes her into her carrier. I cover it with a throw blanket.

Wind swirls through his living room like ghosts, rattling what’s left. Jack examines the broken glass door to his deck as if he might want to secure it.

“Motherfucker!” Glass protruding from the door jamb slices into his arm.

“You can’t do anything about that now,” I shout over the storm noise. “Let’s get Harper home, huh?”

Back into the rain and howling winds, we make a slow but hurried trail through our water-logged yards and around the broken tree. We reach the little house, drenched and cold. With the power out, everything is dark, but I quickly set up lanterns and candles, creating a warm glow. Jack covers the broken kitchen window with plastic trash bags and duct tape. We clean the glass together before releasing Harper.

Edgar approaches with caution, but Harper’s quick to bat her honey eyes and give an affectionate head butt—she’s a pacifist. Wearily, Edgar accepts her with suspicion, keeping an eye on her.

With the cats settled, the last few minutes do vicious circles in my head.This is my fault.Tears flood my eyes with the realization of the damage.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should’ve listened to you about the tree. Your beautiful house is ruined, your study, all your books. This is my fault.”

“Stop. I don’t care about the house. We’re safe. We’re together. That’s all that matters.”

He’s right—a fact I’ve never felt entirely confident about until now.Thismoment.

Dodging cats, I fall into his arms, snuggling against his chest even though he’s damp. He smells like wind and rain and feels clammy cold.

“There’s nothing more we can do until daylight,” he says, his voice soft. “How about you wrap the cut on my arm, and then you let me wrap you up, huh?”

Smirking, I look up at him, my blue eyes widening. “Oh, wordplay… I like it. How ‘bout we ride out the rest of the storm with me riding you?”

“Damn, Rowan.” He laughs. “Forget the arm. Let’s do your plan. Right now.” He squeezes my ass, bringing me tighter against him.

“Cut first.” My hands slip to his waist, where I roll up the hem of his hoodie, slowly taking it off him. It’s not a bad cut, just messy. I retrieve my first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink and get to work.

He works hard to distract me—fondling things, vampire-biting my neck, grazing sensitive spots with his fingertips—but I stay focused on my task despite my laughter and flushed cheeks.

Finally shutting the lid of my kit, I laser in on him, practically throwing myself on him. He lifts me, wrapping my legs around him like they were made to fit there. I kiss the soft skin under his ear—he loves that. Then, my lips trail lower, biting and licking him as he carries me to the bedroom.

“The storm surge will be… impressive,” I giggle between kisses.

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