Page 70 of Into the Tempest

“Love you.”

His words both thrilled me and calmed me, and even after the day we’d had, I was still too scared to say them back.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to say the words so much, but my staccato heart stopped me. Could I run out into a lightning storm without hesitating? Sure. Could I put myself in danger without fear? Sure.

Could I say those three little words out loud?

No.

Instead, I tightened my arms around him and tilted his face up so I could kiss his lips.

“Me too.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TULLY

I slept like a log.After the week we’d had and the stress of it all—after hunkering down and bein’ all tensed up for hours—I was so exhausted. Then in my darkened bedroom—without one sliver of light and having a Jeremiah-sized pillow—I don’t think I even moved once.

Not until someone bangin’ on the front door woke me up. I pulled on some shorts and went downstairs. “Yeah, hold up. I’m coming.” Then I remembered the day before and the cyclone, and I wondered if someone was hurt. “I’m coming.”

“I bet that’s what he said,” Ellis called out. “You better not be naked, for the love of god.”

I sighed and opened the door to find my parents and Ellis standing there in bright daylight. It hurt my eyes. “Christ. What time is it?”

“It’s after eight,” Mum said as they walked in.

“Eight o’clock?”

They got as far as the foyer. “God, it’s like a cave in here,” Dad said. “No wonder you don’t know what time it is.”

I scrubbed my hand through my hair and stretched my back before shuffling into the kitchen and flicking the coffee machine on...

Goddammit.

“No power means no coffee,” I said, putting my head on the kitchen counter. “I hate this already.”

“Let’s get these boards off the windows,” Dad said, getting straight to work.

I sighed. “I’ll go wake Jeremiah.”

I took the stairs and climbed onto the bed, crawlin’ over to his body and kissing his shoulder. “Hey, sleepyhead,” I murmured. He mumbled and groaned. “My parents are here, and it’s after eight. Doreen’ll be wondering where you are.”

He shot up. “Eight o’clock?”

I laughed and got off the bed. “I’d offer to make you coffee, but I can’t.”

He scrambled out of bed. “Doreen’s going to kill me.” He stopped, confused. “Why is it so dark?” Then his shoulders sagged, as if he just remembered the whole cyclone thing like I had just a few minutes ago. “Oh.”

“Dad’s here to help me take the boards off.”

He pulled on some shorts. I loved that he hated underwear. “I wish I could help,” he said, plucking a T-shirt off a hanger and pulling it over his head. “Doreen’s going to be so mad.”

I laughed. “No she won’t.”

He dashed into the bathroom to scrub his face and brush his teeth. “Try not to drink the water,” I said. “We’ll need to boil it from now on.”

He paused with his toothbrush in his hand. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

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