I huff, hiding my smile. “Good thing.”
I retreat to my room, trying to convince myself I’ll sleep through it. But as the rain pounds harder, the windscreaming against the house, I know I won’t. Every crack makes the walls rattle and my chest clench along with it.
When the first crash shakes the house so hard my teeth clack, I’m sliding out of bed, Greenbeary clutched in my arms. I pad across the hall on bare feet and push open the boys’ door.
Inside smells of salt and sand and whatever boys smell like after a day at the beach. Ryan’s on the bottom bunk, curled away from me, dead to the world.
“Ryan?” I whisper. Nothing. Another thunderclap booms, and I flinch so hard it hurts.
Then a low, sleepy whisper comes from the other bottom bunk. “Trouble?”
My heart leaps. Nate’s sitting up slightly, the blanket slipping from his shoulder, hair sticking up everywhere. His eyes—sleepy but alert—meet mine. “You okay?”
Another rumble rattles the house, and I just shake my head.
He lifts the blanket without hesitation. “Come here.”
For a second, I think it would be better to go to my parents’ room. Mom would hold me, tell me everything’s fine, and I’d fall back asleep. But then the lightning cracks again, and my feet move on their own.
I crawl into Nate’s bunk, and when he tucks the blanket around me, warmth settles in my chest. This is different from all the other times he’s comforted me. More important. As if the ground’s shifting and I can’t figure out why.
His body is solid. The tempest keeps raging, but his breathing is steady, and it calms mine without me even trying.
“As long as you’re with me, nothing bad can happen,” he murmurs, words rough with sleep. “I promise.”
I believe him completely. I curl closer, his arm drapinglightly over my shoulders. The thunder fades to a distant rumble, the rain to a lullaby. His heartbeat under my cheek is steady and strong, and I wonder why I never noticed before how safe his arms feel. How right.
“You always make me feel better,” I whisper into the darkness, words barely a breath.
There’s a pause, then his gentle, sure response: “Sleep, Trouble. You’re safe here with me.”
My eyes flutter shut. Lying here with Nate feels different from hiding under the covers alone. Different from Ryan’s teasing hugs or Leo’s protective presence. This feels like...home.
When I wake up, the storm has passed. Sunlight pours through the blinds, turning the walls gold, pretending last night didn’t happen. But it did. I remember every second—the thunder that shook the windows, how I grabbed Greenbeary and ran, how Nate didn’t even blink when he let me in.
Now I’m still here, curled against his side, Greenbeary squished between us. Nate’s awake, propped on one elbow, hair sticking up everywhere. His words are gentle, rough with sleep. “Morning, Trouble.”
My face goes hot. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s fine,” he says easily. “You’re fine.” The words settle me. Then a sound cuts through the room, loud and full of way too much amusement.
“Well, well, well.”
Ryan’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning, like the idiot he is. “What do we have here?”
I sit up so fast I nearly fall off the bed. “Ryan, shut up! I was scared!”
He whistles low, clearly enjoying the scene. “Sure, sure.Middle of the night, sneaking into Russo’s bed. Aww, look at the lovebirds. Nate’s got a girlfriend.”
My face is on fire. “It was the lightning!”
Nate’s jaw tightens. “Cut it out, Ryan.”
But my brother laughs harder, stepping into the room theatrically. “You know, Russo, for someone who acts all cool, you move pretty fast. My little sister, huh? Cute.”
I want the floor to open and swallow me whole. That’s when Leo climbs down from his bunk, looking confused and suspicious. “What’s going on?”
Ryan smirks, throwing gasoline on the fire. “Oh, nothing. Just our sister spending the night…in Nate’s bed.”
