The wind claws at my clothes, hoodie sticking to me with every gust. Somewhere behind me, another crack of thunder rolls across the field like a warning shot.
I keep going.
I palm the monitor in my back pocket, just to reassure myself I still have it. I don’t know how far the signal goes, and urgency pounds in time with my heartbeat.
This plan feels foolish and ill-advised, but I know I won’t be able to sleep until I lay eyes on her. Once I see she’s fine and well, then I’ll march back through the snake pit and go back to pretending she doesn’t leave in less than twenty-four hours.
A crack of thunder sounds off to the right, and lightning splits the sky. It illuminates everything around me, including the white cottage-style cabin fifty feet in front of me. There’s a small beam of light visible through the front window, but otherwise, the house is dark.
I jog the rest of the way to her house, and I pound my fist on the front door. “Abby? I’m comin’ in.”
The handle turns easy. Because of course it’s unlocked.
The door bangs shut behind me, wind gusting in before it slams. The cabin’s quiet except for the storm clawing at the walls.
“Abby?” My voice is too loud in the hush of the place, echoing off the exposed beams and the walls painted pastel. No answer. For a second I think maybe she’s already asleep, that I’ve done all this for nothing, and I’m about to turn around and let myself be the joke she’ll laugh about tomorrow.
But then there’s that beam of light again, clicking on and revealing Abby in the middle of the living room. She’s wearing pajama shorts that ride high on her thighs and a faded hoodie that hangs loosely from her shoulders—myfaded hoodie.
One hand clutches her phone, the screen casting a pale glow on her face, while the other grips a flashlight that trembles slightly in the air.
For a second, we just look at each other, a thousand things passing between us.
“Mason?” she gasps. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re with me tonight. Time to go home.” I jerk my head to the side, water dripping from me all over the entryway.
Without a word, she drops her phone and the flashlight, both landing with soft thuds on the rug, and she’s running straight for me.
I have just enough time to open my arms and brace before she barrels into me. Her arms wrap around my neck, her legs around my waist, and she shoves her face into my neck.
It feels like some kind of scene from a movie. Like something that doesn’t happen in real life.
She crashes into me so hard I stagger back a half-step, but then she's clinging to me, soft and shaking and so goddamn alive it sets every nerve ending on fire. I wrap my arms around her, one under her thighs, the other palming the back of her head. She smells like summertime and fresh cherries.
“I”m soaked,” I grunt out.
“I don’t care,” she mumbles into my skin.
She pulls back and looks at me, her face cast in shadow. “Wait. Is Theo okay?”
“He’s fine. Sleeping,” I assure her, tunneling my fingers through her hair. “But you’re not. So let’s go.”
I adjust her, sliding my other hand down her back to palm her ass. It’s an objectively more secure hold on her, but alsobecause I want to. Her ankles lock around me, her face going pink as she looks away from my eyes.
“I’m fine, you know,” she says. But there’s a raw relief in the way she holds me, like she’s spent hours convincing herself she was fine.
“Alright.”
I grab her keys, hanging on the hook next to the door, and twist the lock before pulling it closed behind us. She’s still wrapped around me, grip tightening when the wind howls. Her whole body is trembling, and I’m not sure if it’s from the storm or something else.
The rain stings my face, soaks my jeans, but she’s warm where she’s pressed against me. I keep my head low and start the short trek into the snake pit.
“I can walk,” she says into my ear, wiggling her ass.
I squeeze both cheeks and haul her closer to me with a grunt. Fuck, she feels so good against me. “I know.”
“I mean, this is a little silly. Coming to my house is one thing, but carrying me is a whole other level,” she says. I can hear the exasperation over the clap of thunder.