STORMFUCKED 1

When I pulled up to the house, the sky was already dark, and the rain had started to fall in heavy drops.

The air smelled of salt and wet earth and the trees bent hard under the wind.

I grabbed my bag from the back seat and ran to the porch, fumbling with the keys as the storm picked up.

The wood under my shoes was slick and the sound of thunder rolled across the ocean. I pushed the key in and turned it fast, my breath rushing out when the door opened.

I stepped inside and shook the rain from my hair. The place was supposed to be empty, quiet, mine for the weekend, and I wanted nothing more than to drop everything and fall onto the couch.

But the moment I set my bag down I froze. There was already a suitcase by the stairs.

My chest tightened. I wasn’t alone.

I heard movement from the kitchen and tightened my grip on the bag strap.

A man walked out, tall, broad-shouldered, with damp hair that looked like he had just come in from the rain.

His shirt clung to him and he stopped whe