Page 188 of The Storm

She holds the papers up in front of her face like a shield. “Step away from the table,” she says in an alarmed voice. “Eww! I don’t need to be near a germ factory. I’m off to Miami the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, well.” I push my chair away. “Then maybe I should go home? Just in case?”

She sighs loudly. “You moving in was a mistake.” She points at my face. “If I catch anything from you, I will smother you witha pillow in your sleep. I have a baseball player to sign. I can’t do it if I’m sneezing in his face!”

“Sometimes, when you feel like you’re about to sneeze, it helps if you imagine that you already sneezed,” Callum says as he closes the fridge after fishing out a sports drink from one of the drawers.

Bridget stares at him. “What?”

Callum shrugs, leaning his shoulder against the fridge. “I’m telling you, it works.”

Bridge considers it for a bit before she frowns. “That can’t be right.”

“Give it a go next time,” Callum suggests.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to remember to start daydreaming about sneezing just as I’m about to sneeze.” Bridget rolls her eyes.

They keep bickering, so I very slowly get on my feet and start to back away.

“I’m gonna go, then,” I say to no one in particular, but before I can, I back into Dia.

“What is it?” she asks as she puts the back of her hand against my forehead. “The flu? It’s been going around. You do feel a bit warm.”

I don’t think I am, but Dia’s been sensitive about any kind of illness ever since her diagnosis. It’s a fine line to tread between getting to go home and her calling me an ambulance.

“It’s just a headache,” I say. But that sounds like something an Advil will solve, and I need it to be something a bit more, I feel, to get away from here. “I’ve been feeling cold all day,” I add. It still doesn’t feel like quite enough. “Umm. Sore throat?” Now it feels like overkill. “Just a tiny little bit, though.”

Callum comes and throws his arm over Dia’s shoulders. “Ready to head back into battle, Dee-bee?”

“Oh,” Dia says. “Sorry, dude. I have to take Go home.”

“I can manage by myself,” I say.

“But—” she starts. The rest of what she’s about to say gets lost in the loud buzzing that starts in my ears when I hear the unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing. My shoulders and back tense immediately.

I know it’s him well before he makes his way into the kitchen. He stops, and his eyes find mine like they’re programmed to do so. I try not to look at him, but I fail almost immediately. He looks… My heart jumps wildly. It thumps and skips and slams in my chest. Waves of heat and cold speed through me, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He has no right to look this good. He should look tired and nervous, not calm and hot.

It takes physical effort not to throw myself at him.

I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this. To ache for someone right next to you.

Nick’s eyes move away from me.

It’s just more ache at this point. He looks from one person to the next with raised brows.

“What are you guys doing? Staging an intervention for the golfcart prodigy?”

Callum slams his hands in front of his crotch and staggers backward. “That was a low blow.”

“How do you drive a golf cart off a pier?” Nick muses.

“Guess I’m just that good. Don’t lecture me. Marcus literally just left, so I’m all lectured out.”

“I wasn’t going to lecture,” Nick says.

Callum’s shoulders slump with relief.