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The front of his head rests against the back of my head, and I remain frozen. Why is he touching me?
“Storms scare you,” he says softly, as if that explains everything.
Pushing his hand away from my side, I turn to face him, leaning back against the door to distance our bodies.
He shifts back and clears his throat.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” I say quietly.
His hair is soaked, and he shrugs while brushing some of the wet hair off his forehead.
“Your brother and Moose Knuckle are gone, and there’s a hell of a storm outside.”
Moose Knuckle?
He seems taller when he’s standing right in front of me, and I have to keep my head tilted back to see into his eyes. They’re not cold today. They look haunted and conflicted more than anything.
“So?”
He looks a little lost for some reason.
“So I didn’t want you to have to sit through it alone in case the—”
The lights die instantly as a wave of silence slips over the house, and he looks around before finishing his sentence.
“—power goes out. Looks like I guessed right.”
His eyes come back down to meet mine, and I take a step to the right. There’s still a little light outside that’s coming in through the windows, but that will be gone soon and it’ll be pitch black in here.
I don’t want to be alone in the storm with no power. Call me a baby, but this shit isn’t cool.
“You can stay. But you sit on a different piece of furniture and you can’t touch me.”
His lips twitch, and he pockets his hands.
“Got any flashlights?” he asks.
“I have four flashlights. I have zero batteries to go in them.”
He laughs under his breath.
“What happened to always stocking up on the necessities? You used to be a little crazy about having extra of everything.”
I tense, but he doesn’t notice as he pulls a candle off my table. I used to be a control freak. It’s a far cry from crazy. He hasn’t seen crazy.
Explaining to him that I can’t buy things in excess anymore isn’t an option. Running out of things happens often. Aidan will have to replace the batteries, because that’s something that seems to be a trigger for me. I can’t shop for very many things.
“Um… Things changed,” I mutter.
“So I’ve noticed.”
He turns back around, and his eyes move from my head to my toes in a slow, deliberate motion. I swallow the lump in my throat and head into the living room, tripping over one of my stray shoes in the way. Away from the windows, it’s a lot darker, and I fumble around to sit down.
Something clicks a few times, and I look over as Chase walks toward me with a lit candle in his hand.
“I have no matches and no lighters. How’d you do that?”
“Magic,” he gasps, then snickers under his breath when I roll my eyes. “I always have a knife and a lighter on hand. You used to collect matches. What happened to that?”
