“Okay, I will.” He looks at me and then up at Jude over my head. “I love y’all too. It’s startin’ to sprinkle. Hurry and go make out somewhere.”
He sidesteps out of my reach with a pitchy cackle when I glare at him.
Jude pulls him into a man-hug and slaps him on the back. “I’m proud of you, kid. Y’all really know how to pull the best from each other. Stay awake and be careful on the wet roads. You got enough money?”
“Thanks, man. Yeah, I’m good.” Sam smacks both of our hands, and we each carry as much equipment as we can to his car on our way down the path to the cabin.
We make it about halfway before I feel something I’ve rarely felt around Jude:nerves.
Our relationship is hovering precariously over the edge of change, and the flutters in my stomach are making me lightheaded. Also, Sammy snacked all day, but I haven’t eaten since the blueberry donut. I didn’t trust my stomach after that. I still don’t.
The rain has escalated from mist to steady drizzle, and my boots slip over the wet pine needles. Jude yanks my arm up to keep me from falling, and I reach my other hand out to him. He steps in front of me and swiftly hauls me over his shoulder, so my face now hangsjust abovethe evidence that supports my “he was a catcher” theory.
“Jude! What are you doing?” I shriek.
“You’re sliding, and we’re both getting soaked.”
“Put me down. I’m fine.”
He lightly swats the back of my thigh. “Why? It’s an excellent view, don’t you think?”
“I can’t tell. My hair’s covering my eyes.”
I’m lying. It’smajestic.
I’m in the fight of my life resisting the urge to swat him back.
“I’m sure you’ve looked before, Punk.”
His laugh erupts when I pinch his side, bringing back our usual easiness. He gets in a few more long strides before the sky cracks with thunder and the clouds empty on us for the second time this week.
Wet hair obstructs my vision when he picks up speed, making me squeal when he lurches to a stop under the overhang of the tiny cabin’s red tin roof. Lowering my feet to the step, he crowds me against the door to get us both out of the rain as much as he can.
I tip my head back, raking through wet hair with my hands, and come face-to-face with a molten swirl of golden brown and green an inch from my face. The frantic rise and fall of his chest flush against mine makes me forget where I am …who I am … what words mean.
“Code?” he asks, close enough to taste the Tic Tacs on his breath and feel it puff against my nose.
“Huh?” I breathe. What language is this?
Water still drips down our faces despite a few inches of cover. He licks a drop of rain from his lips in a slow fluid motion, and I track the movement like a jungle cat. It’s the single most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.
“What’s the code, Lu?” His graveled voice has set up camp and is currently building a fire in my belly. Heat radiates throughout my entire body, and I can’t comprehend a thing he says so close to my face.
I pant as if I’m the one who did the carrying. “For what?”
He dips his nose down, grazing mine, and I let go of my own wet hair to work on his—peeling wet strands from his eyes and cheeks, only slightly aware that I’m pulling him to me.
Or is he pulling me to him?
He grunts a rough exhale, and his eyes fall shut, his hands tightening around my back and hip. “Door … code.”
With a phantom of a touch, our lips brush as I answer. “It’s … umm. One … two … three…”
He drags in a breath, startling me when he speaks. His voice feathers lightly at the corner of my mouth and his hand caresses my cheek before slipping behind my neck. “I can’t go back.”
Momentarily confused, I stare until his words click.
We can’t go back to just friends.
