My pulse didn’t slow. If anything, it spiked higher. I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to move as the storm roared like it was urging me not to open the door. The pounding came again, more urgent this time.
“Kate!” The muffled shout cut through the wind.
Nate. His voice was unmistakable even through two inches of reinforced steel and a thunderstorm determined to drown out everything else. “Kate, open the door!”
Another crack of thunder made the lights flicker once before they steadied again. Rain lashed against the windows behind me, wind screaming through the building’s upper levels like it was searching for a way inside.
I stared at the door, every nerve in my body pulled between relief, irritation, and, unfortunately, comfort. He knocked again.
“I know you’re in there,” he called, his voice closer to the restrained edge I’d started recognizing as his version of urgency.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to smooth the chaos out of my expression even though he couldn’t see me yet. My heart hammered like it wanted to get out of my chest.
Of all nights. Of all moments.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the apartment, turning the storm into a violent silhouette across the glass. I exhaled slowly, braced myself, and reached for the door handle.
Nate stood on the other side, those blue eyes wild and his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. Rain dotted his shoulders and darkened the edges of his tight gray T-shirt, clinging to his muscles. He clearly hadn’t bothered changing after a workout.
His blond hair was damp and messily pushed back, his gym bag clenched in his fist like he planned on using it as a blunt weapon. His gaze swept over me in one rapid pass from my face, to my shoulders, and down to my bare feet, before it lifted to the apartment behind me. A moment later, his entire body visibly unlocked.
“You’re fine,” he said, his breath leaving him in a rush.
“I’m… yes?” I blinked up at him, still caught between shock and adrenaline.
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, scanning the apartment like he expected to find a masked intruder hiding behind my sofa. When nothing lunged out at him, he turned sharply toward me.
“What’s your deal?” he demanded. “Clearly, you’re not in here getting murdered, so what the hell was that scream?”
“The lightning,” I blurted.
He stopped, a frown flickering between his eyebrows before he slowly lifted one at me. “Lightning?”
“It caught me off guard,” I admitted, folding my arms across my chest like I could hold the embarrassment in. “I screamed, then you started pounding on the door, and I thought the building was collapsing, and?—”
Now that they’d started, the words didn’t stop. They didn’t want to, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to make them.
“I just… do you really think this is a good idea?” I asked, panic spilling over into something raw. “This? Us? We hate each other, Nate. You loathe me. You’ve made that clear so many times.”
I desperately should’ve stopped babbling, but I found myself pointing at my own chest instead. “I’m the worst and I know it. I’ve always been hard-headed, and annoying, and loud, and argumentative. I get it. I’m not easy to deal with.”
My voice cracked. “And you have a girlfriend. So there’s that. You’re literally in love with someone who is not me and?—”
“Stop.” The single word cut clean through me, finally breaking off my rambling thoughts and making them stop falling straight out of my mouth. Nate held my gaze directly. Intently. “You have a boyfriend, Kate. It’s not just me being shoved into something I don’t want, but if we’re keeping score, you’re the one with the shorter end of the stick here. You have to do this or your family’s firm could collapse.”
I sniffed, wiping under my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “It wouldn’t be that bad.”
He arched an eyebrow, slow and skeptical. “It wouldn’t?”
I huffed and turned away, stalking toward the living room before my face could give me away completely. Dropping onto the couch, I folded in on myself and pulled my knees tight to my chest, my forehead pressing against them like I could disappear into a portal of my own making if I could just make myself small enough.
The storm howled against the windows, but I still heard the dull thump of his gym bag hitting the floor. A second later, the couch dipped beside me.
“I can leave,” he said quietly. “Or I can stay. It’s up to you.”
When I didn’t respond, he leaned back and stretched his long legs out ahead of him, and I didn’t argue when I realized he’d decided to stay. Being alone in this storm had been terrifying. I didn’t have to like Nate to feel safer with him here.
For a moment, neither of us spoke, but I still focused on the sound of the steady rise and fall of his breathing beside me.Somehow, it helped. I actually started to feel calmer, which was absurd but true.
