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“I don’t believe you.Whywould you do that?” Her eyes are so wide now, blinking in the sight of me like she’s never seen me this clearly before. “Go through all that trouble for me?”
Lightning flashes outside—a colossal, deafening boom shakes the windows—and then the TV and lights cut out all at once, right along with the AC. We’re plunged into darkness, and I wait for the backup generators to kick in. Any minute now would be great. I’m holding my breath, I realize, and I’m forced to exhale as we settle deeper into the dark.
“Shit.”
“Shit,” she says, nearly in tandem with me.
Chapter Eighteen
PAIGE
Just when we need them the most, the generator gods have failed us. We shouldn’t be standing here in a darkness so intense I can’t make out my own hand waving in front of my face. Doors slam out in the hall. Worried voices carry through our door. People are already starting to panic.
Cole and I don’t say a word. It’s like we reject this reality. We want another one. A brighter one.
If only we stay frozen, the lights might flicker back on.
Please, oh please, turn back on.
It’s disorienting to say the least. My head is spinning, but then, of course it is. Hurricane and power outage aside, Cole just laid it all on me. I was ill prepared to hear that confession. I mean, itwasa confession, right? The beginnings of one, at least ...
He’s trying to take Todd down forme?
My heart starts racing so fast I feel like I need to clutch my chest.
“Paige?”
I turn toward his voice. “I’m here.”
“You’re being quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About the storm?”
Oddly, “No.”
I’m unpacking his last few words. Everything he said before the lightning strike. His timing is truly impeccable. I wonder if there’s a Hallmark card for declaring your feelings during a natural disaster.
“Are you okay?” he asks like I’mthisclose to losing it.
He’s correct in his assessment.
“I think?” It’s half statement, half question. Maybehecould tell me if I’m okay. Isheokay? Is anyone in this hotel right now trulyokay?
Oh, so this is what existential dread feels like ...
I listen to him start to try to feel his way around the room. His toe gets stubbed on something hard, and he lets out a sharp guttural groan. There’s more fumbling after that, less gentle now that he’s already in pain. No doubt he’s trying to recall from memory how exactly I had everything stacked. There was the chair, end table, pillows, lamp.Lamp!
Too late.
He bumps it slightly, and it crashes down on my side of the room. The bulb shatters, and I jump back with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal.
“Don’t move!” he shouts.
I go stock still.
“There’s going to be glass shards everywhere. You took your shoes off when you first came in. I don’t want you cutting your feet.”
