Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,72

flipped the radio on, turning the dial until a weather bulletin came over the speakers.

As soon as he heard the words “funnel cloud ten miles east of Crystal Cove,” we were off.

What happened next remains a blur. I’ve experienced it countless times in my nightmares, but the memory is never quite clear. It’s not vague enough to fade, either.

The only reason I survived was because I chose to sit in the back of the station wagon so I could watch the storm from the opposite direction. The impact of the tree crushed the car like it was a cheap tin can. My parents didn’t stand a chance. I was supposed to find solace in the fact that they likely died instantly.

But how do you find solace in the face of death?

“You always hear people say things like ‘at least they died doing something they loved’ and I get it. It makes sense. But sometimes I wonder why they had to love doing something so dangerous? And why did I survive but they didn’t?”

Survivor’s guilt wasn’t something I’d ever heard of. Not until Grams insisted I see a grief therapist. Only then did I start to understand that what I was feeling was common for someone who has gone through what I did.

“I can’t say I understand what it’s like to lose anyone close to you, especially your own parents. But I know you, Amelia. Your parents would never have wanted you to have died with them. They’d be proud of the woman you’ve become. Your spirit, your passion—everything about you is a testament to them. And as long as you live, they’re a part of you. They’ll always be with you.” He squeezes my hand in emphasis.

I long to tuck into his warm embrace, for him to envelope me in a safe cocoon and never let him go.

But I can’t.

I blink tears back and gaze up at him, hating the pity I see in his eyes. “You think you know me?”

“Yeah, Melia. I think I know you real well.”

I can’t help the coy smile that crosses my lips. “I suppose that’s probably true.”

“Thank you for opening up to me,” he says, and something sparks inside me when I know he means it.

It’s not fair.

“Knox, you once told me not to fall in love with you. And I promised myself—and you—I wouldn’t. But you have to promise me something, too.”

Brooding eyes search mine, and I don’t know if I can say it out loud. I don’t know if it’ll be giving too much away. But in this moment, I don’t care.

“Anything, Amelia,” he answers, his tone husky.

“Please don’t make me fall in love with you.”

FUCK.

This is the moment I should disengage. Take a step back. Tell her it’s not possible. But I don’t.

There’s something about this moment that feels different.

Her earnest words make me want to do the opposite of what she’s requesting. I’m not sure if it’s her vulnerability from the storm, the way she finally opened up to me about something she hasn’t told anyone else, or the intimacy of the dark cave, but her words don’t alarm me. Perhaps it’s because we’re a world away from everything else and whatever happens in this cave is just between us, even if only for this short amount of time.

This is when our carefree, no-strings-attached bullshit morphs into something more profound. What that something is, exactly, I’m not sure. I shouldn’t be surprised. Though we’ve both professed not wanting anything serious, for both our futures’ sakes, we’re fooling ourselves.

We’ve been racing down this highway, going 120 miles an hour. The inevitable collision between our heads and our hearts looms over us with each day that passes. And now that we’re here, the last thing I want to do is hit the brakes.

So I opt for distraction.

Wicked, hot, sinful-as-hell distraction in the form of a petite, gorgeous, green-eyed vixen I’ll never get enough of and already know I’ll have a helluva a time leaving behind.

“Amelia,” I whisper, pushing her damp hair back from her face.

She squeezes her eyes shut briefly, her expression guarded as they open. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… I haven’t talked about them with anyone in a long time. Not even Robert. It just brought all my emotions to the surface. I’ll be right as rain once we’re back on dry land.”

When she shivers, I’m eager to return things back to normal. Without a word, I grab the hem of my wet T-shirt and