What happens when the star baseball player hits a home run into the art studio window?
*****
All Sadie Lane Garner needed to make herself happy was a canvas and paintbrush.
With copious projects due and little studio time, she volunteers to clean t...
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IF ELIJAH WASN'T here, I would've had a panic attack.
The storm was getting worse, and the power had yet to return. I was continuously checking my phone for tornado warnings. Though, none appeared even though the trees were blowing at a forty-five-degree angle. Maybe I was exaggerating, but they were leaning pretty far.
"Are you sure we shouldn't leave?" I asked.
"Would you let me drive you home?"
"No."
"Then no."
I huffed.
Reva still hadn't replied to my message, so I sent another text to our entire group chat and Iya was the only one to reply, telling me they were safe and they'd call me once things settled down. I did not know what that meant, but it was good enough for the time being.
Elijah picked at the popcorn. "You know," he spoke, catching my attention. "When I was younger, I would bawl during thunderstorms."
My chest shook. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah." He nodded. "My mom would hold me and my dad would use it as an opportunity to lecture me about being a man."
I sank against the wall, turning my shoulders toward Elijah as he told me about his childhood. I thought about the photo of his parents that fell from his wallet, wishing I could see it again. "Are you gonna cry now? Because I don't know if I can hug you."
He let out a curt laugh. "I'm sure you would if I started bawling."
"I don't think so."
A look of mischief crossed his face before he hid behind his hands and made a loud sobbing sound. "Elijah," I drew in a dramatic breath. He was not being serious...
His shoulders shook with vigor as he tilt toward me. The weight of his body rammed into mine, and I put my hands out to hold him up, but the closer he leaned, the further I fell. The back of his head landed in my lap.
I groaned, pushing myself upright, but laughter found its way into the mix.
"You big baby."
His head was snug in my lap, and I tucked my hands under my thighs to not stroke his cheek. He spread his fingers to peek at me. The candlelight caught his eye and the brown in his iris gleamed.
"You're invading my personal space."
"What is personal space?" He scooted closer, and I had to look away so he couldn't see my smile.
Every part of me wanted to be annoyed. To push his head off my lap. But I forgot how good it felt to be touched, to feel another person's warmth radiating from their body to yours. So, I let him stay in my lap.
He removed his hands, a content smile embellished his lips. "The views great down here."
I rolled my eyes. "You all are the same. You, Jayce, Dustin..."
