Page 31 of Between Now and Forever

“Same reason you won’t tell me your name. I wanted to be someone else today. But, I learned really fast, that there is no “someone else.” You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.”

“Did you just compare yourself to apig?”

“No, it’s just a saying. But I am done with pretending. I don’t think the ROI is worth the effort. So, my name is Liz, Mr. My Name is A Secret. And I’m also done with people who pretend. So, it’s nice to meet you. But, I think I’ll just go back to dancing by myself.”

As if in rebuke of her words, thunder rumbles so loudly that it startles shrieks, screams, and bellows from the revelers around the lake.

We look at each other wide-eyed and she looks like she’s about to say something when a deafening strike of lightning turns the night sky as bright as it was before the sun set.

And then, the heavens open. There’s no build up in this storm. The rain falls in torrential sheets of fat droplets that sting as they hit us. It strikes the ground and sounds like a million boots running in a staggered cadence that’s deafening.

The reaction of the crowd as the downpour douses the campfires is immediate and as dramatic as the sudden deluge.

Most people abandon their things and make a dash for their cars. Some try to salvage their belongings and find their companions. It’s total chaos. People are shouting, shoving, running.

She grabs my arm and shakes it to get my attention. She’s saying something but I can’t hear her. I point to my ear and shake my head so she knows.

She deflates a little and looks back across the lake and then back at me, indecision plain on her face even as the rain runs over it.

I remember the look on her face earlier and I make a snap decision.

I take her hand and try to turn her in the direction of our lake house. She digs her heels in. She points back at the campfire and struggles out of my rain slicked grasp and takes off running toward it. I watch, not sure if she’s coming back, but also not willing to leave her out here alone.

She stops right outside the circle of benches around the fire and bends to scoop up something. When she turns to face me, she’s wearing a triumphant smile and clutching a light blue backpack to her chest.

She runs back in my direction, and I meet her halfway. Without a word, she slips her hand into mine and when I turn us around, she doesn’t resist. The rain is relentless and thunderous as it pounds the pavement and we hold tight to each other’s hands as we weave through the crowd of people headed in the opposite direction.

We’re rounding the first curve on the small road that leads to the houses when she stumbles. Her hand slides out of mine as she topples to the ground. When I turn around, I see she’s bent, clutching her ankle, and when she looks up at me, her face is twisted in pain.

Lightning cracks again, and I jump. I’m not used to being so exposed to the elements in a storm like this. Getting inside is all I can think about.

I slide an arm under her knees, and lift her into my arms. She slips her arms around my neck, and then, we’re off again. She’s light, but I haven’t worked out in a month and my lungs protest as I run up the hill as fast as I can.

I need to get my ass back in the gym.

I trip on something and manage to regain my balance before we both fall.

I silence the self-critical voice in my head and focus on the warm body in my arms and how trusting her grasp on my neck feels.

As soon as I hit the steps, the door swings open and the warm light of our brightly lit cabin beckons me. My mother appears in the open door, her face etched with worry and surprise as I bound up the stairs and into the house.

She’s got towels ready and drops one over my shoulder.

“Carter, I’m so glad you’re okay, the lightning hit a tree or something. Hold on, let me get more towels. Don’t move,” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears down the hallway.

The cabin is brightly lit but the air conditioning we’ve had running constantly turns the wet clothes clinging to me cold and uncomfortable really fast.

Liz squirms. “Hey, will you put me down, please?”

That sounds like the worst idea ever. Not only do I like the way she feels, but having her pressed to me like this is keeping my chest warm.

“Let me carry you upstairs, so you don’t have to use that ankle,” I say and start toward the stairs.

“My ankle isfine.” Her clipped tone surprises me and I look down to see her expression is stony.

I stop dead in my tracks. I’m a lot of things, but an overbearing asshole who doesn’t listen when a woman says no is not one of them.

“I’m sorry. Here.” I lower her to the ground.

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