Chase Me If You Can(57)

I huff and squeeze my eyes shut. “Doyouwanttokeepchasingtogetherfortherestofmyseason?”

Wes curls his fingers around my jaw and tips my chin up, lightning illuminating the gray-blue of his eyes. “I want you to look at me when I say this,” he says, so soft it’s almost lost on the wind. He waits, patient as ever, until I do as he asks. Only then does his other hand join the first, cupping my cheeks between them. “Have you figured out yet why I kissed you at that gas station?”

The intensity of his unguarded emotions is too much. Focusing on some distant point over his shoulder, I mumble, “Seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“Eyes on me, Sloane.” His thumbs gently guide me until our stares lock again. “I kissed you that day because after all these years, once I finally had you in my arms and thought you’d let me, I couldn’t stop myself.” He swallows, his throat bobbing. “That kiss wasn’t a favor. That kiss was a goddamn reckoning.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him now, even if I wanted to. Not with all the emotion he isn’t trying to hide pouring out. The want, the need, but also the vulnerability of the confession. “Years?” I repeat, dumbfounded.

Each flash of lightning illuminates his features more starkly, capturing just how serious Wes is when he says, “You’re gorgeous.” He leans in to press a soft kiss to my cheek. “Talented.” He kisses the other cheek. “With a wicked tongue and a sharp sense of humor that I look forward to all year.”

Wes pulls back, that intense look still on his face and an unspoken I want more floating between us. “Your brother got in touch the other day. Everything’s fixed.”

“Oh.” I swallow my confusion and force my tone to stay light. “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t. And maybe that was wrong of me, but…” He brushes a stray strand of hair off my forehead. “I don’t want this to end. I want to finish the season with you.”

Maybe I should be annoyed that Wes didn’t tell me, but the truth is that we’ve been chasing together for nearly three weeks now. Even after telling my brother to take his time, some part of me knew that the repairs must be done. I could have texted Eric to ask him myself at any point.

It’s only now that I can admit why I didn’t—I didn’t want to go back to chasing alone either. Even if getting closer to Wes terrifies me. Even if I don’t entirely know what any of this means, what will happen in another three weeks when my season ends.

But that’s a problem for another time.

“Okay.” I trace a path down Wes’s broad shoulders and toned biceps to the nip of his waist and the curve of his ass, pressing closer as I push onto my toes. My heart pounds, a staccato rhythm to match the lightning above. “Let’s finish my season together.”

I tug his mouth down to mine, heedless of the raindrops peppering our skin. Thunder rumbles all around us, flashes flickering against my closed eyelids, but I’m so absorbed in kissing Wes that it’s a distant, faraway sound.

At least until our phones start howling.

“Oh shit.” I stare down at the emergency message with a twist of unease. “Baseball hail. I didn’t think this storm was that strong.”

“It’s not,” Wes says, his voice grim. “But the one coming up behind it is. Time to go.”





Chapter Fifteen




We aren’t even back to the highway yet when Tracy calls.

“Hey, Tracy, did you see—”

“Baseballs? Yeah, I saw it. We might have bigger problems.” Her grim voice has the hair on the back of my neck standing up before she asks, “You guys anywhere near town? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“No, we’re on our way in now. Wes is driving.” I hesitate, glancing over at him. His usual easy expression is gone, eyes flicking from the road to me and back again. “You think the town is getting hit?”

Anxiety curdles my stomach. I already know the answer. The possibility of a tornado would only put that tone in her voice for one reason.

“We’re a couple miles west. It keeps moving the way it is, if a tornado comes down…”

“It’ll plow right into them.” I squeeze my eyes shut, only opening them when Wes’s fingers brush mine. Without thought, I spread my fingers wide and refuse to overthink the effect something so simple as holding hands has on me.

“It’s not looking good.”

I glance at Wes. He catches my eye long enough to dip his chin in a nod. “We’re heading your way. Just in case.”

As soon as I hang up, I juggle finding Tracy’s blue dot on the radar app, updating the GPS, and catching Wes up. The hail coming up behind us remains a concern, but when we stop to top off the gas tank, I find a path that avoids it if we’re fast.

Wes emerges from the gas station with two cases of water in his arms and a hard set to his shoulders. I hurry to open the car door for him, and when our eyes meet, his are serious. “Just in case,” he says softly.

“Let’s hope we don’t need it.”

We make it to Tracy and Matt’s location on the side of the road with forty minutes to go until sunset. On the edge of town, two miles south of the seething storm, Wes and I exchange nervous glances as we get out of the car. Light leaks from the horizon and casts the whole scene in an eerie glow.