“No.No. Definitely not a couple. It started as something physical, but lately …” I trail off, trying to hide my blush. “I don’t know. I like him. I like him in a way I never thought I could like him, but he’s not that arrogant, irritating guy anymore. Maybe he was never that guy.”
“Iknewit. I could tell something was different when I watched your most recent shows.” Harlow smirks. “You used to make this face whenever he talked, but now all you do is smile.”
“I do?” I touch my cheek, wondering if it’s become something so common for me these days, I don’t even know I’m doing it. “It’s nice to smile.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Mia squeals. “If this works out between you two, we could besisters.”
“We haven’t even gone on a date. Walking down the aisle is a bitpremature.” I set down my paintbrush and pluck a blade of grass. “I said it was supposed to be casual, and I went and caught feelings for him instead. That’s not good, is it? It’s probably going to ruin everything.”
“Oh, Quin.” Mia takes my hand in hers. “You haven’t noticed, have you?”
“Noticed what?”
“All Sebastian does is look at you. He’s been doing it foryearsthinking I wouldn’t notice, but it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You should tell him how you feel.”
“Maybe I will.” I look at the girls. “What if I mess up the friend group?”
“Please. The six of us are so busy, we rarely all get together.” Harlow hums. “Besides. I think you deserve to be a little selfish, Quin. Forget about the rest of us. You have to put yourself first, and the only thing that matters is if you’re happy.”
“Yeah.” My smile is pure joy. I’m so happy, I feel like I could fuckingburst. “I am.”
Finding a new normal in the two weeks since Georgianna hit the state is difficult. Power was restored a couple days ago. I’m back to work, but I find myself being pulled in different directions. I can’t keep up, and I’m exhausted all the time.
In total, there were two hundred deaths from the storm. The majority came from carbon monoxide poisoning and flood-related emergencies at a group of mobile park communities on the coast, and my heart aches for everyone who lost a loved one.
Property damage has been estimated upwards of one hundred billion dollars, and the agriculture impacts are just as severe. Orange groves across the state were destroyed, and farmers are saying it’ll take years before things grow back the way they should.
The worst part? A new storm is churning in the Atlantic. Forecasts are predicting another Florida landfall, and a second hit so soon after a Category 5 hurricane would be catastrophic.
I don’t remember the last time I got a full night of sleep, and I haven’t seen Sebastian in days. He’s been busy bouncing between editing the content he captured during Georgianna and debriefing on ABC, and I miss him.
I take advantage of the break in my afternoon to text him.
Hi.
His answer comes back almost right away, as if he’s been waiting to hear from me.
Sebastian
There she is. How’s my favorite meteorologist?
I lean back in my chair, wishing he were next to me. His microphone is still on my desk. So are the tiny pieces of paper he folds into squares and tosses my way when he wants my attention.
I’m about to brush them into the trash can, but the hint of an ink stain catches my eye. I frown and reach for the one closest to his microphone, opening it up. Inside is his messy handwriting, a note written there.
Pretty, it says.
With a heart underneath it.
I set it down on the desk and stare at the stack of squares, wondering what else he might have written. I grab the next one, curiosity getting the best of me.
Smart, this one reads.
Feisty, comes next, with a flower drawn in the corner.
Loves ketchup, hates broccolifollows, a sad face after the wordbroccoli, and my heart rattles in my chest.
It takes me ten minutes to unfold each one, two dozen compliments and all the things I like—all the things I’ve mentioned offhandedly while on-air with him—set out in front of me, a collection of his inner thoughts.
