So I bit down on my tongue and let him continue to act like there wasn’t a weird charge between us that just thirty minutes before hadn’t been there.
When we got back that night from my evening trip to the bathroom and to take a shower, I’d crawled onto the mattress and grabbed for my journal.
“Can you keep the light on for a while? I want to finish writing.”
Taylor’s hand dropped from the light switch on the wall and he sat down in front of the door. “What is it you’re always writing?”
“Uh—”
“Do you write songs or poetry? Or do you just write?”
I knew he was trying to get rid of the awkward vibe we’d had between us the last couple hours, but this wasn’t something I was willing to share with him. “It’s kind of personal,” I said softly and glanced up to see if I’d offended him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I’ll let you get back to writing.”
“I . . . I just don’t usually talk about it.”
“You don’t have to explain, it’s—”
Suddenly the lights went out, and we both went silent. I heard Taylor stand up and the door open, but for the first time, no light filtered in from the hall. “Rachel, do not move. If anyone other than me walks in here, scream, you hear me?” he whispered.
“Yeah.” I put my journal back down and crawled to the back of the mattress. I was shaking, but it wasn’t in fear. Some part of me was imagining Kash and Mason cutting the power and coming to rescue me. It was ridiculous, and so silver screen . . . but I couldn’t help it. It had been twenty-two days since Taylor had brought me the journal, which meant I had been gone for over a month. After that amount of time, I was allowed to have silly fantasies of being rescued.
“Rachel, it’s me.”
I frowned when Taylor’s voice filled the room.
“There’s a really bad storm and the power is out, at least on this street.”
“Oh,” I said dejectedly.
“Come on, we’re gonna go to my room.”
My head snapped up, and I could make out the shape of his body in the doorway but nothing else. “What? Why?”
“Because this room needs power to lock, mine doesn’t. So come on, let’s go.”
I stood and walked the few steps over to where he was, and with my hand stretched out in front of me, waited until it bumped into him. He laughed and grabbed my wrist before towing me out of the room. We stopped in the kitchen and at a hall closet on our way there, picking up water, candles, and matches. And by the time we got to his room, I was practically sprinting into it and urging him to lock the doors. Something about being in those halls and not being able to see the other guys had chilled me to the bone, to the point that even after I was sitting on Taylor’s bed with my knees pulled up to my chest, I was still shaking.
Taylor went around the room, lighting enough candles so we could see, before using a flashlight app on his phone to check under the bed, in the closet, and the bathroom. I didn’t need to ask what he was doing; I knew he was checking to see if the others were in here with us.
When he was satisfied with his search, he stood next to the bed with arms crossed over his chest and stared down at me. “Did you get your journal?”
Even though I knew I hadn’t grabbed anything when we’d left the room, I still patted his bed beside me, looking for it. “No.”
“Can you sleep?” When I nodded my head, he took a step back and spoke softly, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
ROLLING OVER TO MY OTHER SIDE, I let my eyes adjust and watched Taylor at one of the weight machines in his room. Unlike the times he worked out in my room, he had his shirt off and was only in a pair of running shoes and mesh workout shorts. He did each rep with ease, but sweat was running down his body, and I wondered how much of a difference this was for him now after spending so long without it.
Minutes passed before his voice caused me to jolt back. “I know you’re awake, Rachel.”
“Uh—”
“Do you need anything, or are you just bored?”
“I can’t sleep.” And I wished I had stayed facing the other way. Getting caught staring at him while he worked out was still beyond embarrassing. But he spent days on end staring at me, it was only natural for me to do the same when he finally did something.
He let the bar go all the way to the top before releasing it and turning his body so he could look at me better. “I’ll go shower.”