How’s the Savannah situation going?
I look up from my phone at the reminder of her. She’s sopping wet, still not in her car, and her shoulders are shaking.Shit. Without thinking, I place my hat on the center console and step out into the relentless downpour.
“Hey, what’s?—”
I stop in my tracks and cut off my sentence when I notice that her bag is on the ground beneath her and she’s covering her face with both hands. If she looked up at me right now, there’s a goodchance I’d see her tears mixed with the rainfall streaming down her face.
As I walk closer and step in front of her, I wrap my hands around her wrists. Not wanting to uncover her face, she shakes her head and tries to back up. But I don’t let her. My first instinct should be to give her space. Let her sob for another minute before I try and figure out how to make her feel better.
But we’re standing on the side of the dark street, drenched. Not the most ideal place to cry it out. Plus, another second of seeing her so upset might split me in two.
Feisty Savannah, I fully expected. This version? Not so much.
My grip on her wrists tightens and I pull her closer. Slowly, because I anticipate her jerking away again.
If you’ve ever tried to help a hurt animal, you know the helpless feeling. There’s nothing you can do but be patient and hope they trust that you’re just concerned about them. You can sense the hesitation in their body language, the fight with their common sense, and their curiosity as they question whether or not you’re trying to attack them. Savannah heaves another sob and it’s clear whatever battle she’s been fighting has finally broken the surface.
Even over the deafening rain and whistling wind, I can feel the moment that a massive breath finally leaves her body. The stiffness in her limbs fades, and when her forehead hits my chest, she melts completely.
“It’s stupid,” she sniffs into my shirt. “All I’ve been through lately, and it’s the lost keys that do me in.”
Tentatively, I release my grip on her wrists, and she finally drops her arms from her face to wrap them around my waist. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I smooth one hand over the back of her head and the other across her shoulder blades. Back and forth.
I look down at her, a mess from the rain and the storm inside. When her guard is down, we move so naturally together like this. There’s no stopping the flood of memories from when we first met.
Her curious smile, the way my body unconsciously leaned toward hers . . .
She was relaxed, and we talked for hours. I know it’s borderline diabolical to feel so strongly about someone so soon after meeting them, but I didn’t give a shit. I was helpless to fight against the thought that we were perfect together.
An unsettling ache builds beneath my rib cage, and I work to ignore it and focus on the version of her that’s currently in my arms instead.
I know she hates me. Or at least shethinksshe does. Hugging is the last fucking thing I thought I’d be doing with her right now. I’m not complaining, but still.
No matter how she feels about me, I can’t help but comfort her when she’s so obviously upset like this. It seems like she needed it too. Because with every second, she leans more into my embrace, to which my body automatically responds with a tighter hold.
Maybe I can’t fix whatever problems she has right this second, but for now, I want her to feel a little less alone. Lightning cracks through the clouds in a flash, and a few seconds later thunder echoes around us.
“You don’t have your keys?” I say, nearly shouting so that she can hear me despite being buried in my chest and the downpour that surrounds us.
If she says anything, I don’t hear it, but she’s nodding. God, I shouldn’t be thinking about how cute it is when she nuzzles her nose into my chest like that. Or how much I don’t want to lead her back to my truck, effectively putting an end to our spontaneous embrace. But she’s starting to feel cold, and there’sno hope of getting into her car right now, so I back away to take her hand.
Or at least, I try to. It takes less than a second for realization to cross her face and she takes two large steps away from me.
After another loud crack of lightning, she squeals and jumps, running away from me and getting into my truck. I jog to the driver’s side and hop in too, all the while thinking once again how complicated and confusing this woman is.
She could have slapped me when I hugged her, but she didn’t. She could have ended the hug herself, but she didn’t. And I’m starting to get whiplash from her hot and cold reactions to every little thing I do.
When I slide into my seat and shut the door behind me, I look over and see Savannah holding her face in her hands again.
“Hey,” I say just above a whisper. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ll take you home and you can track your keys down tomorrow.”
“My brother is going to give me so much shit for this. Even more than he already does.”
“Fuckyour brother,” I blurt before I find the decency to not say it out loud.
Her head whips in my direction and she glares at me like I put a bag of burning dog shit on her doorstep. The way her nose crinkles up and her eyes narrow is adorable though and I don’t think she looks half as scary as she thinks she does.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Not trying to be a dick, but he’s a grade-A asshole and you know it.”
