Not by the storm, but by him.
This is dangerous. Not just for our safety, but also for my heart.
4
Hayes
Standing out in the rain hasn’t been my brightest idea, but it did give me a reason to stay with Kelsie.
Even if dealing with the flat is going to be a headache in the future, it’s my saving grace.
Plucking at my shirt, I see the way she grimaces as she gives me side glances. Probably blames herself for not being the one dripping wet.
She’s talking to the power company, hoping to get an estimate on how long it’ll be out. A pole must’ve gone down somewhere.
All day, I’ve watched her work. The bar is closed. I’m hoping she can relax here soon; otherwise,I’llbecome restless. Once that happens, it’ll be bad for both of us.
I’ll want to pluck her down to my level and keep her close so she can’t loosen more strands of hair from her ponytail since she keeps tugging her fingers through the freed bit.
Looking away from her, I swallow down the urge to order her to relax.
Trying to get comfortable, my wet shirt makes it impossible. Now that it’s no longer warmed by the summer rain, it’s not drying fast enough. Not even my jeans are this wet.
I can’t worry about her if I’m starting to get bogged down by my own issues.
Plucking at the fabric, one solution comes my way with ease. Knowing it’ll solve my issue, I don’t think twice about reaching behind me to fist the back of my collar. Tugging at it, I pull it off.
Already feeling better, my skin prickles up from the cool air of the bar. Without power, there’s nothing warming the place during the cool days.
Flattening my shirt across a neighboring table, I sigh in relief. Hoping it’ll dry out quickly enough, my skin tingles as I feel like I’m being stared at.
Turns out, Iam.
Kelsie is wide-eyed, her mouth parted. Like she forgets she’s in a conversation, she stutters on her words as she tears her eyes away.
Maybe I should’ve asked if she would be comfortable with me taking it off first.
The last thing I want to do is make her feel uncomfortable.
While I could put it back on, my skin already feels better having it off. Relaxing as best as I can in one of these booth seats, I fiddle with the radio to find something worth listening to while she wraps up her conversation.
Approaching the table, she sets down her phone and grips the back of the regular chair on the other side of the table.
“They can’t do too much as of right now. They’re going to try to figure out what shut off the power, but they’re telling me it may be hours before it’s back on. I’m thinking we’re going to be stuck together in these crummy circumstances until tomorrow.”
She sounds disappointed, but I’m on the other end of the stick.
What would I be doing if I weren’t here?
The answer comes too easily… Rotting away in my cabin, drowning in solitude like I’ve done for years, that’s what. The flickering lights, the storm’s howl? None of it would even crack the top five of my miseries. Not when the darkness I carry inside makes every night a power outage.
But here?
Here, there’s warmth that has nothing to do with the failing electricity. Here, there’sher.The way her laughter cuts through the gloom, the way her presence alone makes my battered old heart remember what it’s like to beat for something other than survival.
The storm can take the lights as long as it leaves me this.
I don’t think there’s anything I’d want to do more than be trapped at some rustic bar with the woman who owns my heart.
