We settle back at our table, but I can't focus. I'm too aware of Romeo, of the tension crackling between us like the electricity in the air outside.
"We should practice the presentation," I say, needing something to focus my racing thoughts. "Make sure the timing works."
He shrugs. "Okay."
We run through it a few times. By the third time, we're finishing each other's sentences, our arguments flowing together seamlessly. It's exhilarating, this intellectual partnership. This sense of being perfectly matched.
"That was good," Romeo says when we finish. "Really good. I think we're ready."
"We should probably add one more slide about?—"
Thunder crashes outside, so loud it rattles the windows. The lights flicker.
"Jesus," I breathe.
Romeo is already checking his phone. "Severe thunderstorm warning. They're saying people should shelter in place until it passes."
As if on cue, an announcement comes over the library's PA system: "Attention. Due to severe weather, the library is now under a shelter-in-place order. All patrons should remain inside until further notice. Do not attempt to leave the building."
I look around. There are maybe ten other people scattered throughout the library, all of them looking at their phones or out the windows at the storm that's just beginning to unleash itself.
"I should—" I start to say, but I don't know how to finish that sentence. I should what? Leave? Stay? Stop being alone with Romeo when every moment we spend together makes it harder to remember why I'm supposed to stay away?
"You should stay here," Romeo says. "It's not safe to go out in this."
He's right. Through the windows, I can see rain coming down in sheets and wind bending the trees. Lightning flashes, illuminating the campus in stark white light.
"I'll just—I need to find a book," I say abruptly, standing up. "For my other paper. While we're stuck here anyway."
It's a transparent excuse to get away from him, to put some distance between us before I do something stupid. But Romeo just nods.
"Okay. I'll be here."
I head toward the ancient history section on the third floor. The library is eerily quiet except for the storm raging outside. Most of the other patrons have congregated in the main reading room on the first floor, leaving the upper floors nearly deserted.
I scan the shelves, not really looking for anything specific. I just need to move, to think, to figure out what I'm doing?—
"Savannah."
I spin around. Romeo is standing at the end of the aisle, backlit by a flash of lightning as the storm intensifies.
"What are you doing?" My voice comes out breathless.
"Following you." He takes a step closer. "Because I think you came up here to get away from me, and I need to know why."
"I told you. I needed a book?—"
“Do you?” He steps closer. “Or are you just scared? You've been running from this since the moment we met. And I've been patient. I've given you space. I've respected your boundaries. But Savannah—" His voice drops. "I need to know. Is it because you don't want this? Or because you do?"
The lights go out.
The sudden darkness is absolute and disorienting. I can't see anything except the occasional flash of lightning through the distant windows. "Romeo?—"
"I'm here." His voice is close, so close. "I'm right here."
I can hear him moving, sense him in the darkness. And then his hand finds mine, the warmth of it sending a tingling sensation over my skin.
"Tell me to leave," he says quietly. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away. I'll give you space. I'll stop—" He breaks off, as if he knows what he’s saying isn’t the truth, and he can’t keep spinning promises that we both know he’s going to break.
