“Dad was careful too.”
I close my eyes, leaning against the wall. We've had this conversation a hundred times since I started chasing.
“So this professor,” Emily continues when I don't respond, “he's going to what? Ride along while you drive.”
“Sort of,” I mumble. “We’re working out the details. I'm meeting with him this morning to go over his research. If it's legit, we'll head to Texas this afternoon to catch the system moving in.”
“And if it's not?”
“Then I go alone, like always.” I hear movement in the hallway outside my door—probably the early risers heading out. I check my watch again. I should start getting ready if I want to beat Dr. Reed to the lobby.
“Is he at least cute?” Emily asks, her tone shifting to something lighter.
I nearly choke. “What? Why would that matter?”
“Because you haven't mentioned another human being in your work conversations in like, three years. I'm just wondering if there's a reason this particular researcher caught your attention.”
“We’re collaborating on potentially groundbreaking research. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” Emily says, and I can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “And what’s his name?”
“Dr. Jonah Reed,” I reply, immediately regretting giving her ammunition.
“Ooh, a doctor. Mom will be impressed.” She’s absolutely enjoying this. “What’s he look like? Give me details.”
“I’m not giving you a full physical description of some guy I just met,” I say, turning toward the motel mirror. My hair is a disaster, sticking up in tangled waves like I stuck my finger in a power outlet. “And he’s not the point of this collaboration.”
The problem is, I can’t exactly tell her that Jonah is not supposed to be the point. That the point is the research. The possibility that his models could actually improve warning times enough to save lives. That I am not currently thinking about his stupid broad shoulders, or the fact that he somehow looked unfairly attractive soaking wet after nearly getting sucked into a tornado, or the way he looked at me sometimes last night like he’d lost the thread of what he was saying.
“Fine, be boring,” Emily sighs dramatically. “But send me a picture when you get a chance. For safety reasons,” she adds quickly. “So I know who you’re with.”
“Sure. Safety reasons.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see it.
The truth is, I already know exactly what picture she’d want.
Jonah squeezed awkwardly into my truck with his knees jammed against the dashboard, trying and failing to act unaffected every time we touched. Jonah blushing bright redafter accidentally grabbing my boob when the truck hit that pothole. It’s unsettling how easily those moments replay in my head.
“Look,” I say, dragging myself back into the conversation, “I need to get some sleep.”
“Mmhm. Alone?”
“Emily.”
She laughs loudly enough that I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Okay, okay. But promise you’ll call more often? And be careful with this Texas system?”
“Always am,” I reply, which isn’t really an answer, but it’s the best I’ve got. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Don’t die.”
Our usual goodbye.
The line disconnects, leaving the motel room suddenly quiet.
I set the phone down on the dresser and stare at my reflection again. Then, against my better judgment, my mind drifts right back to Jonah.
God. This collaboration is either going to produce groundbreaking research or completely ruin my life.
