Chapter 4
The heat from where Kade’s hand had been on my knee lingered as I stared out the window at the rain.
I was trying to get my breathing under control, trying to pretend that casual touch hadn’t sent electricity straight through my entire body.
It was just Kade. The same person who’d seen me with the flu, who’d held me during my mother’s final days.
Except he wasn’t just Kade anymore, was he?
“You good?” His voice cut through my spiral, smooth and low in the darkness of the car.
“Yeah, just... processing the fact that my car is officially dead and I’m gonna be eating ramen for the next three months to afford the repairs.”
“Stop. You make good money. Besides, I’ll handle it.”
“Kade…”
“Storm.” Again, Kade said my name the same way he always did at the end of the conversation. “We’re not doing this. You need help, I gotchu. That’s how this works.”
I looked at him, dashboard lights outlining his strong jaw and focused eyes. One hand gripped the wheel, the other rested on his thigh. His gray sweatpants should’ve been illegal, and his damp hoodie clung to his chest, making my mouth go dry.
God, I needed to get a grip. “Fine,” I said. “But I’m buying all the groceries this weekend.”
“I hear you.”
Rain battered the windshield in sheets. Wipers worked overtime, making it hard to see. Thunder rumbled, low and ominous. “This storm is getting crazy,” I said, pulling my knees up to my chest. “You sure we shouldn’t just turn around and go back to the city?”
“And do what? Risk getting stuck in my car on the way back?” He glanced over at me. “Nah. Besides, it’s almost my birthday, and you know bringing it in together is tradition. This storm shit is just… annoying.”
My stomach did a weird flip that had nothing to do with the weather. “You’re right,” I said. “It’ll be fine. I brought a couple games, too.”
“Exactly. We’ll chill, sip, eat, vibe. Same shit we always do.”
Except it didn't feel the same. Not with the way my heart was racing. Not with the way I kept catching myself staring at his hands on the steering wheel, remembering how one of them had felt on my knee. I needed a distraction.
“Can I have the aux?” I reached for the cord before he could answer.
“You’re just gonna play the same five songs you always play.”
“And? They’re good songs.”
“Stormie, if I hear Folded one more time…”
“You’ll what? Kick me out of the car in this weather? I don’t think so.”
He laughed, and the sound filled the car, warm and rich. “You’re lucky I love you.”
And there it was. Three words that hit me completely different from how they should have.
I love you. Kade said it casually, like he said it all the time, but it made me clench my thighs.
Why did my body betray me like that? I hated myself for it.
He glanced over at me, and I looked away too fast, pretending to be focused, searching for a song.
But he caught it. He always caught everything.
“What?” he asked, and there was something in his voice that made my stomach flip.
“Nothing,” I lied, scrolling through my playlist when his phone lit up on the dashboard mount. Angel’s name flashed across the screen and my stomach dropped.
Angel was the girl he’d been fucking with, though Kade didn’t do labels.
I met her once when she stopped by his place.
Tall, gorgeous, with model curves. Angel’s confidence either drew you in or made you feel small.
I’d smiled and been polite and left as quickly as possible, then spent the rest of that night wondering why the thought of Kade with someone else made me feel like I’d swallowed glass.
The phone rang again, and Kade glanced at it, jaw tightening, then looked back at the road. “You gonna get that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Nah.”
“It might be important.”
“It’s not.”
The phone stopped ringing, then started again two seconds later. I bit my lip, stared at the screen. Angel was calling back immediately. Persistent. Maybe it was important. “Kade…”
“A’ight, hold on.” He sighed and hit the answer button, voice shifting into something more clipped. “Yeah?”
I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation, but I could hear the tone–high, insistent, maybe a little annoyed.
“I told you I was busy this weekend,” Kade said, his voice flat. “I’m not home.”
More talking from her end. I pretended to be very interested in my phone, scrolling through nothing, but every cell in my body was tuned into this conversation.
“Angel, we talked about this.” His voice was firm now, that edge of finality I recognized. “I’m not doing this shit right now.”
A pause. Then her voice got louder, and I could actually hear it now, sharp and demanding.
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve been straight with you from jump. This was never…” he cut himself off, glanced at me, then back at the road. “I’m not having this conversation while I’m driving in a storm. I’ll hit you next week.”
He ended the call and tossed the phone into the cup holder like it offended him. Silence pressed on us. I should’ve joked or changed the subject, but instead sat, feeling a twisted satisfaction that he brushed her off. But I didn't.
“My fault,” he said finally, voice back to that normal, smooth, calm.
“It's cool. You don’t have to apologize.”
“She’s been... shit’s complicated.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Kade.” I meant it… sorta. Part of me wanted to know everything.
“I know I don’t.” He was quiet for a second, and I could feel him choosing his words carefully. “But for real, that’s done. Been done. She just... doesn’t wanna accept it.”
“Oh,” I replied, forcing lightness into my voice, “well, at least now you can have a drama-free weekend.”
He looked over at me, and something in his expression made my breath catch. “That’s the plan.”
Thunder cracked overhead, loud enough to make me jump. The rain was torrential now, the kind of downpour that made you wonder if the sky was ever going to run out of water. “Jesus,” I muttered. “This is insane.”
“We’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”
I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was gripping the wheel tighter, leaning forward slightly to see through the rain.
The road was barely visible, and every few seconds, lightning would flash, illuminating the trees on either side of us.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” I asked.
“I’ve been to this cabin a hundred times, Storm. I could drive here blind.”
“Let’s maybe not test that theory.”
He smiled, just a little, and some of the tension eased. “Trust me.”
I did. That was the problem. I trusted him completely, with everything, in ways that probably weren’t smart for someone I was supposed to be just friends with. The GPS announced we were five minutes away, and I could feel my pulse picking up.
“You still with me?” Kade’s voice pulled me back.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
About how your hand felt on my knee. About how you just ended a call with another woman to focus on me. About how I’ve been lying to myself for years about what you actually mean to me.
“About how I’m gonna make you watch all my favorite movies this weekend, and you can’t say no because you owe me for rescuing me."
He laughed. “That’s not how this shit works.”
“That’s exactly how that works.”
The cabin appeared through the rain, surrounded by trees that swayed violently in the wind. Kade pulled up as close to the porch as he could and put the car in park. “Ready to make a run for it?” he asked.
I looked at the rain, then at the cabin, then at him. His eyes were already on me, dark and intense in the dim light. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” The rain pounded on the roof of the car as Kade reached for the door handle.