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She scoffs. “Let’s not forget all of the things you’ve roped me into over the years, okay?”
Roped her into? “I had to get the rabies vaccine last year because of you. TWICE.”
“Oh my gosh, Knox, you know that wasn’t my—”
“Hush.” I hold out a hand to her and she swats at it.
“Don’t tell me to hush, you hush. Mr. Had-I-Known—”
I don’t waste a moment. I pull her closer to me and duck us down, backpacks slinging against the wet metal. Her boots slip and she falls directly on my lap. “What are—”
My hand clamps over her mouth and I tighten my hold on her waist.
The cold feels less brutal like this.
As much as I want to home in on the warmth of the back of her sweater pressed to my chest, there’s something nearby. Footsteps and a sturdy voice that’s closer than it should be.
“We need to go unless you want him to see us,” I whisper low in her ear.
She looks behind her shoulder at me, all dark honey eyes and cold breath. Her pupils dance between mine, and I lift my hand off her mouth for her to nod.
“Follow me.” I guide her back to standing and reach for her backpack.
Thankfully, the voice isn’t close enough that he would be able to see us, but it is getting closer, so we need to book it. I sling both bags on each shoulder and rush my way up the rest of the steps as she follows a step behind me.
“Do you have to stomp like that?” Felicity whispers.
“I’m not stomping,” I whisper back, breath puffing like fog. “These stairs are just loud.”
They are loud—cold metal groaning underneath us, echoing down through the cold mountain air. Hopefully not too loud, because just as we reach the very top of the stairs to the tiny metal building, I begin to see a shape forming in the trees nearby.
He’s coming closer and closer, and we have nowhere to go.
Chapter Twenty-One Flick
Knox flings the door of the fire tower open and all but throws me and my bag inside, shutting it behind us before I can even process the butterflies in my stomach. No. Not butterflies. A stampede of zebras. Hippos. A school of whale sharks doing water aerobics in there.
What was that?
His hand on my waist, cold fingers slipping just between the sliver of skin where my sweater and jeans come to meet. Our breaths mingling together, tiny clouds floating in the freezing morning air.
Monumental zings of this bright glow rising and falling in my chest. That look in his eyes, like maybe he felt it too…this pull. I’ve felt that before, and I know what followed it last time. This lingering, sinking feeling in my gut that Knox might just kiss me, only for the moment to snap in two at the close sound of footsteps, a wishbone broken in half, leaving me to wonder who won. Whose wish was going to come true?
It couldn’t have been mine because Knox now has his nose pressed to the one-way windows, his breath fogging up the glass around him.
“I think we’re good; he’s still climbing up. When he gets close enough, we can take a look and see if you think it’s him before heading out.”
“Okay.”
Was that my voice? That floaty, breathy thing?
“I need to get you warm. It’s freezing in here.” Knox throws his bag off his shoulder and onto the makeshift bed.
I glance around the room. Huh. I’ve never been, only heard some stories about people regularly getting kicked out for smoking weed and potentially adding to the population up here.
There was this vision I always had in my mind of what it might look like: an air mattress that you have to reinflate every hour. Rusty windows and a tree-blocked view of the tiny town in the distance. Cold and boring. Maybe a little scary.
It’s…different than that, though.
