Page 79 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
My stomach drops.
“Rain’s coming in fast,” Ryder says, already reaching for his guitar case.
But I can’t move.
The rumble fades, and the air goes still and thick. Another drop hits my arm, and then the back of my neck.
They never made it home.
“Alice.”
The twinkle lights blur at the edges. My fingers grip the table’s worn surface, pressing into the carved initials, needing something solid and real.
Another rumble. Closer.
“Hey.” Ryder’s voice drops. “Alice, look at me.”
I can’t.
The rain picks up suddenly, pattering against the decking. Chairs scrape all around us as other diners grab their things. Children are squealing. Someone laughs about getting caught without an umbrella.
“Ally.” Ryder’s hand covers mine on the table, yet it’s the unexpected nickname that makes me jolt. “We need to move.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
Thunder cracks, louder this time, and the sound splits me open. A sound escapes my throat that I don’t mean to make.
“Okay, we’re going.” Ryder is on his feet, and his arm comes around me, solid and certain, guitar case in his other hand. “I’ve got you. Come on.”
My legs find the ground but don’t cooperate. He takes most of my weight without comment, steering us toward the awning atthe burger shop’s entrance. The rain is heavier, cold and wind-driven, and the deck clears fast as the other diners crowd under the same narrow strip of shelter.
We press in close. Someone’s elbow presses into my backpack, and I slip it off and secure it between my feet. Ryder adjusts his grip, shifting me in front of him so I’m not crushed, with his arm still anchored around my shoulders. The guitar case presses against my hip, and I focus on the solidity of him. The warmth.
I hate that I need him.
I hate that without him I’d be back at that table, staring at nothing while the sky fell apart.
The rain sheets across the deck, bouncing off the wood. Another roll of thunder moves through the mountains, and I feel it in my chest, low and terrible.
I exhale. Four counts.
Ryder’s arm tightens slightly, as if he felt it.
The cold comes in hard with the wind, and we shiver almost in unison. My shoulder presses against his chest and I can feel him breathing. It’s slower than mine, but like he’s working for it.
Steam rises off the wet deck, and the twinkle lights swing on their wire.
“It’s just rain,” he says quietly, close to my ear so I can hear him over the downpour. “Just breathe.”
I shiver against him, and he briskly rubs my arm.
“Just breathe, Alice. Four count in… Come on, do it with me.”
I follow his lead, worried I’ll pass out if I don’t. I hold it for as long as he counts, and exhale slowly along with his rhythmic voice.
“Good,” he purrs near my ear. “You’re doing good, Alice.”
