Judging by how dark it was outside, night had fallen (#science). At some point, I must’ve gotten up to use the bathroom but didn’t make it back to bed. My old friend, the hardwood floor, welcomed me back.
“This is where I live now,” I said, chuckling. “I live on the floor.”
Thunder shook the house, pounding, as if trying to bang the door down. I thought I heard someone call my name.
“Holden?”
The storm is talking to me.
“Holden, are you there?”
River.
He pounded on the door, hard and insistent. “Holden,open thedoor.”
“This is a new development,” I murmured, my stupid heart begging me to let him in.
I can’t. I can’t let him in.
The pounding became a slower, more forcefulbang.Once, twice, and then the door slammed open, bringing with it the sound of rain and heavy footsteps.
“Jesus, it’s an oven in here,” River muttered, then he was kneeling beside me, his face floating across my blurred vision. Rainwater coursed down his jacket and made his dark hair hang over his forehead.
“You broke the door down?” I asked. “My hero…”
“Are you okay? Christ, I’ve been calling for hours.”
“Why?”
“Why?Why?” He glanced around, shaking his head. “Because… What the hell are you doing?”
“The room is spinning, so I’m holding the floor down.”
River sat heavily beside me with an exasperated sigh. “What are youdoing? Drinking yourself stupid on Christmas? Where are your aunt and uncle?”
“Seattle. With my parents.”
“They left you alone?”
“I told them to go.”
His eyes darkened, his voice tinged with anger. “You shouldn’t…dothis. You shouldn’t hurt yourself like this. And they shouldn’t have fucking left.”
“There you go again,” I said, chest aching. “Always saying things you have no business saying.”
“Come on.”
His strong arms went around me and hauled me to my feet. I sagged against him and lifted my heavy, alcohol-soaked head. My bleary eyes scanned his face, wanting to preserve every detail.
“You’re really a handsome bastard, you know that?”
“You’re drunk,” he said and hefted me with a sexy grunt.
“It’s not even subjective,” I continued as he half carried me to the bedroom. “Just fasts. Fats.Facts. No one would ever kick you out of bed.”
He smirked grimly. “You did.”
The floor tilted, and I gripped the lapels of River’s letterman jacket. His blue eyes were filled with concern and something deeper. Something I’d never seen before, except that I wanted to live in it.
