Page 17 of Unwrap Me After Dark
I look down. Tyler stands below me, rainwater streaming down his face, his expression tight with tension.
“I can’t get past this gap,” I call down.
“Throw me the cat!” he shouts back.
I hesitate, looking at the trembling animal in my arms.
“Trust me!” Tyler spreads his arms, planting his feet wide. “I won’t drop it!”
Carefully, I hold the cat out. “Sorry about this,” I murmur, then let go.
The cat drops through the air with a startled mewl. Tyler lunges forward, arms outstretched. He catches it against his chest, cradling it with surprising gentleness.
“I got it,” he calls up. “Got you, little one,” he murmurs to the cat, stroking its wet fur. “Shh. You’re okay now.”
I hang there, one arm wrapped around a branch, watching him. Tyler Murphy—cocky athlete, perpetual thorn in my side, the guy who’s made it his mission to push every button I have since our parents got married—is whispering soft nothings to a frightened cat, his face gentle in a way I’ve never seen before. Something twists in my chest, hot and unexpected.
He glances up at me. “Wait there.Don’tmove.” Then he sprints toward the neighbor’s cabin, cat held securely against him.
Lightning cracks again, this time close enough that I feel the electricity in the air. My legs tremble with exertion, arms burning from holding my position. The minutes stretch while I wait, clinging to the tree, the storm raging around me.
Then Tyler is back, running through the rain, his t-shirt plastered to his body. He positions himself beneath me, eyes locked on mine.
“Jump,” he calls. “I’ll catch you.”
I stare down at him. “Are you insane?”
“Just trust me—for once.” His voice carries a certainty that hooks into me.
I weigh my options. My arms are giving out. The storm is getting worse. And twenty feet up a tree during a lightning storm isn’t where I want to die.
I count in my head. One. Two. Three.
I let go.
The fall is a blur of fear and rain. Then impact—not with hard ground, but with Tyler. We crash down together, his arms wrapped around me, taking the force of the fall. We hit the mud with a wet thud, the breath knocked from both of us. Pain jolts through me, but less than it should be. He broke my fall.
We lie there in the mud, rain pouring down on us, both gasping for breath. I’m sprawled on top of him, our faces inches apart. His arms are still around me, holding tight.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough.
I nod, unable to speak. I’m aware of every point where our bodies touch—chest to chest, hips to hips, legs tangled together. His face is so close I can see individual droplets of water on his eyelashes. My gaze drops to his mouth with a sudden realization.
I want to kiss him.
Right here. In the rain and mud.
My head dips. His eyes widen, recognizing my intent. For a second, I think he might meet me halfway.
Lightning splits the sky overhead with a crack like the world ending. We both flinch, the moment shattered.
Tyler clears his throat. “We…should go inside.”
I roll off him, mud squelching beneath me. We scramble to our feet, both of us dripping, covered in mud and rain. He glances at me, eyes scanning my body.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, and I can’t tell if he’s asking about potential injuries or about what almost just happened.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, wiping at the mud on my jeans. “Let’s go.”
