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Falling for Haze Adams feels like jumping out of a moving plane, realizing your parachute won’t open midair, completely freaking out as you slowly watch the ground get closer, only to land on a cloud, get back up and say, “Again! Again!” The fall is fucking terrifying... but the landing is beautiful.
On knock number two, Haze sighs. We’re both thinking the same thing. He’s not going away. What he decides to do next renders me speechless. He leans in and whispers something against my lips.
That’s it. I’m gone. Someone reboot my brain.
He uses both his arms to pull himself up, gets off me, and drags his feet to the front door. Here I am, lying on the couch with my mouth agape and the last words he said to me spinning around in my head.
Deep down, I wish he would’ve said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It won’t happen again.” Then maybe I could get over his blue eyes and irresistible smile. Maybe I could forget the way he first kissed me on the beach and the sensation of his fingers tracing the curve of my hips.
But he didn’t.
Far from it.
He said the one thing I was both desperate and afraid to hear…
“We’re not done, Kingston.”
10
The Storm
A man that looks around forty years old is standing on Haze’s porch, his eyes wrinkled with worry. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the exhaustion taking all he has to give.
“Yeah?” Haze’s voice is dry.
“Hi. I’m so sorry to show up unannounced, Mr. Adams. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
Here we go again with this Mr. Adams thing. Why do people in this town treat him like he’s their superior? I furrow my eyebrows, waiting for Haze to clarify the situation.
“We were busy, actually.” Innuendo laces his voice. I bite back a smile. The guy has no shame, whatsoever.
“I apologize. I saw your car in the driveway. I didn’t know someone was home. I’m afraid your parents didn’t mention that detail.”
“That’s because they don’t know,” Haze says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “My parents sent you?”
“Yes. To check on the house for tonight’s storm.”
So, this man is an employee of Haze’s parents? No, wait. Not the part I should focus on. There’s a freaking storm coming?
“Hold on. What storm?” Haze asks.
He doesn’t know either.
“Didn’t you hear? It’s been expected for a while now.”
That’s when the pieces come together. Today is Saturday. I think back to how Ryder, the guy who bought me the dress, said “Good luck for next Saturday” last week. I didn’t think much of it at first, but now it all makes sense.
“I don’t exactly come to town often,” Haze replies. “So why are you here?”
“Your parents sent me to board up some windows and make sure the house would be fine.”
“Of course. Bastards haven’t come here in years but still don’t want to lose a sellable property,” Haze mutters more to himself than to us. “How bad is it going to be?”
“Violent winds, lots and lots of rain. We’d be really surprised if we don’t lose power. Hope you have plenty of food, candles, and blankets just in case.”
“Yeah, no worries. We still got some leftovers from the last storm.”
The last storm?
