The rest of the drive back to the cabin was silent—
but not the peaceful kind.
It was the kind of silence that pressed against your skin,
thick and electric, like the moment before a lightning strike.
Cole didn’t look at me.
I didn’t look at him.
But I felt him.
Every inhale.
Every shift of muscle.
Every ounce of tension rolling off him like heat from a furnace.
The truck stopped.
And I bolted out before my brain caught up.
“Ariana.”
His voice was right behind me, low and sharp.
“No,” I snapped without looking back. “Not now.”
“You can’t walk off alone.”
“It’s a porch, not a battlefield,” I said, doing a dramatic sweep of my hand. “I think I can survive the treacherous ten-foot journey.”
He didn’t even crack a smile.
Which was annoying but… also unfairly attractive.
Insi
