Love Bait

33| Mission acomplished

As soon as the door clicks shut, I head up to my bedroom to change. There's a tingling in my fingers, the kind that happens whenever I'm nervous, which is absurd. It's not like this is the first time Jordan and I have been somewhere alone; what am I so afraid of?

My outfit of choice is an oversized black hoodie and black yoga pants. I figure the more clothed I am, the less likely it is that Jordan and I will succumb to our urges, though it's just a precaution. Jordan and I are mature enough to stay in a house together regardless of what I'm wearing. I'm certain.

Outside, the rain has eased to a light pitter-patter, though the sky still has this heavy look, like it could change at a moment's notice. I close the blinds, dab on some perfume, and close the bedroom door behind me.

Jordan is in the hallway in a back tee and sweatpants, his hair still damp from the rain. There's this second where we're completely still, quiet, like the hallway is somehow too small for us both.

"I'll show you your room," I say. I squeeze past him, ignoring the way my heart pulsates at the touch of his skin, and show him to the guest room. "It's small, but the bed is super spacious."

He raises an eyebrow and steps inside, resting his bag on the armchair. "It's nice."

"Are you hungry?" I ask. "We could order a pizza. Your favorite, right?"

The corner of his mouth lifts like he's surprised I remembered, but quickly drops when he remembers he's mad at me. "Will they even deliver?"

"You really are a city boy, aren't you? They deliver here right up until a warning is announced," I say. "Come on."

We head downstairs and into the living room, where I retrieve the remote from the side of the sofa and turn on the tv. We fall into an awkward silence as I flip through channels while he finds the pizza app.

When I settle on the news channel, his head snaps up. The hurricane watch has turned into a warning, with a category 2 heading this way. I'm not surprised, these things always change direction in what feels like an instant, but the worry on Jordan's face is even more noticeable under the slight blue glow of the tv screen.

"It's really nothing to worry about," I say. "We get category 2's all the time."

He turns to me now, all serious. "Evvy, they're telling people who live near the coast to evacuate. On what planet is that considered nothing to worry about?"

"They always say that," I say, "because they have to, but hardly anyone here ever does. These houses were built to withstand at least a category 4. Plus, the houses on this side of the island are well above sea level, so there's minimal risk of flooding. Most we can expect is some damaged cable lines, fallen trees, and power outages."

Just as I say this, rain pounds the windows like pellets, making him jump. I'm about to give him the speech again, but my phone pings with a message from Dad – he's seen the update, too.

Didn't expect to move to a warning so soon. Lexi and I will be back tomorrow if the weather lets up. You'll be fine as long as you stay indoors. Is everything okay? Are you still alive?

Alive and kicking, I say, and I put my phone away. "Are you ordering the pizza?" I ask. "I'd like extra cheese, pepperoni, sweetcorn, ham, peppers and pineapple." I lean over his shoulder, expecting him to have up the pizza app open, but he's busy Googling Category 2 hurricanes.

He pulls his lip between his teeth. "It says the wind range can reach 110mph. There's a big risk of injury or death, buildings may see major roof damage, and many trees will be uprooted. Residents should expect near total power loss, with outages lasting anywhere from a few days to a few weeks."