Page 27 of Made for Wilde
He flicks his eyes over to me, then back to the road. "No problem. Your dad would kill me if I left you stranded."
There it is. My dad. The unbreakable force field between Koda and me. The reminder punches a hole in my chest and fills it with fizzing, useless guilt.
"How was your class today?" I ask, desperate for anything normal. "The beginner boxing thing?"
The muscles in his jaw pop.
"Fine. Bunch of kids who've never thrown a real punch."
"Did anyone cry?" I try to tease, remembering the way he smiled at the diner this morning. That smile had come out of nowhere, like sunlight through storm clouds. I want it back more than anything.
He snorts. A little. But doesn't give in.
"Not today."
I laugh anyway, letting it fill the cab for half a second before it dies. He's so tense I can almost see the vibrations coming off him.
This morning, Koda felt different. He watched me in a way that made me feel bright and grown up and something else. Something dangerous and good.
Now he's a vault, and I'm locked out.
I have no idea what to do with the way he makes me feel. I want to crawl into his lap and press my soaking face againsthis neck. I also want to jump out the window and run away screaming.
Instead, I sit, shivering and radiating awkwardness.
The storm gets worse as we drive, the wind flinging needles of rain against the truck's sides, threatening to rip the doors off. Koda steers through it all with absolute control, like the truck is an extension of his body. We take a left, then a right. Suddenly, my block looms ahead.
Only something isn't right.
The entire street is pitch black. Totally out, like someone erased every bulb and TV and phone charger in a five-mile radius. My apartment complex sits at the end of the block, hulking and dark.
"Oh no," I groan. "I think the power is out."
Koda puts the truck in park and peers through the downpour.
"Yeah. Looks like the whole block's down."
I stare at my apartment building. The reality settles like a cold stone in my stomach. The idea of sitting alone in the dark, listening to wind batter the windows and thunder shake the walls, makes my skin prickle.
"Your dad mentioned you have a roommate,” He says. “Is she there?"
"No. She's in Denver this weekend, visiting her mom. She won't be back until Monday."
Koda doesn't respond. He just throws the truck in reverse, spins the wheel with one powerful arm, and backs away from my dead-end street. Then he guns it, heading back the way we came.
"Koda, what are you doing?"
"I'm not leaving you in an apartment with no electricity during this storm."
"Then where are we going?"
I glance over at him and the expression on his face is unreadable.
"I'm taking you to my cabin,” he says.
My heart pounds in my chest.
"Your cabin?"
