“Your arm,” she gasps, lips inches from mine. Her eyes flick to my mouth, then the cut. “You’re bleeding on me.”
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“We have to clean it up. Bandage it. Then get out of these wet clothes.”
I don’t move. Neither does she.
Too close.
Close enough to forget why that’s a problem.
Chapter
Twelve
SLOANE
I’m the one who breaks first.
I shove at his chest—harder than I need to—and sit up, breath catching. “Sit.”
He doesn’t move.
But his mind’s working as if there’s something left undone.
Rain still pounds the roof, loud enough to rattle the walls, but it’s nothing compared to the silence stretching between us.
“Your arm,” I say, sharper now. “Let me see it.”
His gaze lingers a second too long before he finally shifts, pushing himself up against the edge of the cot. Blood has soaked through his sleeve, dark and steady.
“It’s nothing.”
“Stop saying that.” I reach for him anyway, fingers closing around his wrist before he can pull back. “You’re bleeding through everything.”
He goes still under my touch, clearly not used to this.
Then, he jumps to his feet, muddy boots clomping across the cabin floor. “Have to act now, or we’ll lose it.” His eyes lock on mine. “Don’t you dare follow me this time.”
He doesn’t know how stubborn I am. Or maybe I don’t realize how foolhardy he is.
All I know is it takes me a moment to follow him back outside… because I can’t believe my eyes. That he’d go out there after the Jeep in this.
“Rhys!” I scream, grabbing his upper arm. “Have you lost your mind?”
“We’ll lose it for good,” he says, trying to shrug away from me, “if I don’t go now.”
“You’ll lose your life,” I counter, gripping him more tightly.
“Let go of me.” He wheels back around, screaming. Our chests collide with only icy torrents of rain between us.
“No.” The wind is a howl. I can barely hear my voice over it.
The sky claps again. I jump at the burst of white light.
“I won’t let you risk your life,” I say, shaking my head. “That stupid Jeep isn’t worth it.”
“Not letting you down is worth it,” he hollers, and that’s when I see it—the regret behind his eyes. He’s said more than he meant to. Again.
