Page 15 of Unwrap Me After Dark
When we reach the cabin, Liam gets out before I’ve even put the car in park. He grabs his grocery bag from the trunk andstalks inside without a backward glance. The door to his room slams moments later.
I take my time bringing in the remainder of the groceries, putting everything away. My hands shake, I don’t know why. I keep replaying everything—the way Liam’s eyes lit up when he smiled at Natalie. The look on his face when he watched Nick flirt with me. The way his body responded to my touch last night.
My pocket feels heavy with Nick’s number. Maybe I should call him. It would be a perfect excuse to escape the suffocating tension. To be around someone who wants my company.
But I don’t. I stand in the kitchen, fists clenched at my sides, heart racing. What am I doing? What do I even want? Liam made it clear that last night was a mistake. A drunken error in judgment we should both forget. So why does the thought of him with Natalie make me want to put my fist through a wall?
I retreat to my room, shutting the door behind me. The bed creaks as I collapse onto it, staring at the ceiling. Three more days. Just three more days, and then we go back to our regular lives. Back to barely seeing each other except at forced family dinners. Back to pretending we’re nothing more than reluctant, distant relations thrown together by someone else’s choice.
The thought should be a relief. Instead, it sits like lead in my stomach.
5
Liam
THE STORM WAKES ME first—angry thunder clawing across the sky, rain lashing against the cabin windows like it’s trying to break in. I lie there, heart thumping against my ribs, blinking into darkness. My phone says 12:17 AM. Then I hear it again—the sound that pulled me from sleep. Knocking, urgent and insistent at the front door. Who the hell is out in this weather at this hour? I push back the covers, my bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor, sensing the night is about to get worse.
Lightning flashes, illuminating my room. The knocking grows more frantic. I pull on a t-shirt, already wearing sweatpants to sleep, and trudge through the darkened living room.
“I’m coming,” I mutter, though not loud enough for whoever is pounding on my door to hear.
When I pull it open, the wind nearly yanks it from my grip. Standing on my porch, silhouetted by another crack of lightning, is the gray-haired woman from the neighboring cabin. Beside her stands a small girl—her granddaughter, I assume. Both are soaked through, their hair plastered to their heads, clothes clinging to their frames. The little girl’s bottom lip trembles, either from cold or fear or both.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the woman says, raising her voice above the storm. “We need help.”
I rub the sleep from my eyes. “What’s happened?”
“It’s our cat, Lucky.” The woman’s voice quavers. “She got scared by the thunder and jumped out the window. Now she’s up a tree crying, and we can’t get her down.”
The little girl looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I swallow a curse. Of course it’s a cat in a tree. Of fucking course.
“Come in,” I say, stepping back to let them enter. Water drips from their clothes onto the floor. “Wait here. Let me get changed.”
I leave them in the living room and head back to my bedroom, flipping on lights as I go. I strip off my t-shirt and rummage through my dresser for something I don’t mind getting soaked. As I’m pulling on a hoodie, I hear a door creak open behind me.
“What’s going on?” Tyler stands in the doorway to his bedroom, shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-hanging basketball shorts.
His hair is mussed from sleep, his eyes heavy-lidded, but there’s no hiding the defined muscles of his chest and abs.
I drag my eyes away from his torso. “Neighbor’s cat is stuck in a tree.”
“And that’s our problem because…?” He crosses his arms, which only makes his biceps more pronounced.
“Because they knocked on our door, and I’m not an asshole.” I yank a pair of sneakers from under my bed.
Tyler scrubs a hand over his face, then through his light brown hair, making it stand up even more. “Fine. Give me a minute.”
He disappears back into his room without another word. I sit on the edge of my bed, lacing up my sneakers, trying not to think about how this “bonding weekend” won’t stop becoming weirder with each day.
I return to the living room and tell the woman, “My stepbrother’s coming too. We’ll get your cat down.”
“Thank you so much,” the woman says, relief washing over her face. “We’re just across the way. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t answered.”
Tyler emerges a minute later wearing a t-shirt and jeans, his hair somewhat tamed. He nods at the visitors, then looks at me. “Let’s go.”
The four of us step outside. The rain soaks through my hoodie, cold water running down my neck and back. The woman leads us across the muddy path separating our cabins, the little girl clinging to her hand. Lightning splits the sky, followed almost immediately by a thunderclap that feels like it could crack the earth.
