Chapter Twelve
Savannah
I’m trying to sleep—really, I am. But the storm outside has other plans. Rain pelts against the windows like a relentless drummer, and the thunder rolls so loud it feels like it’s shaking the entire house. I’ve buried myself under layers of blankets, but the chill in the air seeps through, leaving me shivering.
The bed is huge, and no matter how much I curl up, it still feels empty and cold, the huge expanse of space consumes me, leaching the warmth from my skin. I clutch the blanket tighter, but it doesn’t help. My teeth start chattering, and I let out a groan of frustration. Sleep is a lost cause.
Then it happens. A lightning bolt splits the sky, so bright it bathes the entire room in white light for a split second before the deafening crack of thunder follows. I can’t help it—a scream tears out of me before I can swallow it back.
Within seconds, the door flies open, and Rylan is standing there, flashlight in hand, his expression sharp, alert.
“Savannah?” he says, his voice steady but urgent. “Are you okay?”
I sit up, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. “I . . . yeah. Sorry. It’s just the storm. It startled me.”
He steps into the room, his eyes scanning for any sign of danger. Satisfied that everything’s in its place, he exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Try to go back to sleep,” he says, softer now. “You’re safe.”
Safe. That word again. I let out a shaky breath, hating how vulnerable I feel. “Rylan?”
“Yeah?” He turns to face me fully, the beam of his flashlight stretching jagged features across the walls, making the room feel smaller and more ominous.
I hesitate, my fingers tightening on the blanket. “Can you . . . will you stay? Just for tonight? I . . . I’ll feel better if you’re here.”
He doesn’t answer right away, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “Savannah,” he starts, his voice careful, “are you sure?”
“Please,” I whisper.
Something shifts in his eyes, and after a moment, he nods. “Alright.”
He walks over to the bed, sitting down on the edge before stretching out on top of the covers, his hands clasped behind his head. The bed dips slightly under his weight, and even though he’s not touching me, his presence is a comfort.
I try to relax, closing my eyes and focusing on the steady sound of his breathing. But the cold still clings to me, and my shivering intensifies. I cringe at the sound of my teeth chattering.
“You’re freezing,” Rylan says, his voice soft and resolute.
“I’m fine,” I lie, though the violent tremor that shakes my body gives me away.
With a sigh, he sits up. “Move over.”
“What?” I blink at him, confused.
“Move over,” he repeats, pulling back the blanket. “You’re going to get sick if you stay like this.”
I scoot over without a word, and he slides under the covers next to me. The warmth of his body is immediate, and I hate how much I crave it. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close until my back is pressed against his chest. I stiffen, every nerve in my body on high alert.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the back of my neck.
Easier said than done. But his scent surrounds me—clean and woodsy, with a hint of something warm and spicy that makes me want to bury my face in his shirt. I can’t fight it anymore. Slowly, I let myself melt into his embrace, the tension easing from my muscles.
“Better?” he asks softly.
I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Better.”
His arm tightens around me just slightly, and I close my eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat drown out the storm outside.
I’m pretty sure I feel him place a soft kiss on the back of my head before sleep finally claims me.