Page 55 of Obscurity
Jason spread one blanket over the floor and held onto the other. They’d briefly considered settling on a pew, but the seats were narrow and hard—not very comfortable.
As they sat side by side on the narrow space, both still damp from their rescue efforts, Olive realized they were going to have to share body heat whether they wanted to or not.
“Come here.” Jason lifted the edge of his blanket as he spread it out. “You’re shivering.”
She was, though she wasn’t sure if it was from cold or nerves. But the invitation was practical, necessary even.
She scooted closer until they were sitting pressed together, the shared blanket wrapped around both of them. Thankfully, their clothes had remained fairly dry, protected by the sleeping bags covering them.
The warmth was immediate and comforting. Jason’s solid presence beside her, the familiar scent of his skin, the way he automatically adjusted his position to make her more comfortable—it all felt so natural, so right, that for a moment she almost forgot why she’d been keeping her distance.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much.” She leaned into his warmth, letting herself relax for the first time all day. “Thank you. For the blankets, for moving us, for . . . everything.”
“We’re partners,” Jason said. “We take care of each other.”
But the way he said it, the gentleness in his voice, suggested something deeper than professional courtesy. Her heart pounded harder.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the storm outside. It was almost 4 a.m. They wouldn’t be getting much sleep—morning would be here before they knew it.
It had been a long, long night.
“Just think,” Olive started. “Brad and all his friends are warm and dry and probably drinking champagne while we’re huddled in an abandoned building like refugees.”
“If I had to guess, the party is probably still going strong over there.”
“While his paying customers sleep in flooded tents.” The injustice of it made her angry all over again.
“Do you remember,” Jason’s voice dropped to an intimate level, “that time we got caught in the rain at the football game?”
Olive smiled despite everything. “It was homecoming. The game was so intense that I sat through the entire fourth quarter in a downpour. But I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were thestar quarterback who won the game and took the school to the state championship that year.”
“I still remember you were wearing that blue sweater that you said was your lucky football game outfit.”
“Which was completely ruined by the end of the night.” She laughed softly. “I was so mad at myself for not bringing an umbrella.”
“I did give you my letterman jacket even though you were already soaked through.”
“Yes, and I appreciated that. But I felt so bad for you. You were soaked to the bone.”
“Hey, I was trying to be chivalrous. And I was on an adrenaline high after winning the game.”
The memory was sweet and painful at the same time.
They’d been so young then, so sure that what they had would last forever. So naive about how easily love could be destroyed by circumstances beyond their control.
“We were different people then.” Olive’s voice came out scratchy with emotion.
“Were we?” Jason’s voice was thoughtful. “Sometimes I think we’re exactly the same. Just . . . carrying more scars.”
She turned to look at him. His face was serious, open in a way that made her heart ache with possibility and fear.
Sitting here with him, warm and safe despite their circumstances, sharing memories and gentle touches, felt like setting herself up for heartache all over again. She was falling back into the same patterns, the same feelings, the same dangerous hope that maybe this time would be different.
But maybe, just maybe, that was a risk worth taking.
Somewhere in these mountains, Chloe Kingston was still missing, Olive reminded herself. She still depended on them to find the truth.
