the end of the week. Sooner if it’s bad.”
I glance out the kitchen window at the hammering rain. “Looks like it’s gonna be pretty bad.”
Beau shakes his head. “This is just an outer band. Not even hurricane strength yet,” he says, hooking the towel around his neck. “It could even let up soon. For a little while, anyway.”
The prospect of weather worse than this is terrifying. “So when will it reach your definition of—” I use my hands to make air quotes, “bad?”
Beau grimaces. “Tonight. Unfortunately, just after the sun goes down.”
I bite my bottom lip.
Beau steps closer, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. We’re both soaked to the skin, and it feels like it strips us of something important. Like boundaries.
His focus on me is so intense I stop breathing.
“What do we need to do before then to protect you?”
I swallow, his closeness addling my brain. “I-I think the house is safe enough.”
One corner of his mouth quirks. “No, I meant from Moira.”
Oh. Right. That hurricane.
I glance at the clock over the microwave: 10:48. Shit. “I basically have twelve minutes before Moira hijacks my Insta account.”
Beau gives a tight nod. “Okay. We’ll have to block her before then.”
My stomach tries to fall out of my butt.
“Oh shit. I’m really doing this,” I blurt. “She’s going to come fucking unglued.” I clap my hand over my mouth, my own curse words startling me. “Pardon my French,” I murmur into my palm.
Beau arches a brow. “French? Really?”
I suck in a gasp and drop my hand. “I forgot for a minute you teach French.”
His eyes narrow in a way that I know is teasing, but it still makes my pulse race. “We’ll talk about your Francophobia after we block Moira.”
This time when he says it, my stomach stays where it’s supposed to, but my heart climbs two inches because he keeps using the word we.
We.
My phone is in my purse with the rest of my stuff in the living room. I squelch over to it in my soggy sandals, grab my phone with shaking hands, and open the app.
Panic descends.
“If I change the password on my Instagram account, will it send an email? She has access to my email too. And my Twitter and Facebook.” I swallow because talking about this—really, truly defying her—feels about as safe as poking a White Walker in the eye.
Beau’s chest rises as his lungs fill, and he nods. “Do you have a laptop?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get mine, too. We’ll have to do it all at once.”
“Holyfuckingshitballs.”
Beau nods again, the picture of composure. “Yeah.”
While I dig my laptop out of the overnight bag I packed to stay at Jonathan’s, Beau goes to his truck in the garage. I set the MacBook Air on the cushioned ottoman that doubles as a coffee table and sit on the loveseat. Beau drops beside me a moment later.
My hands are practically convulsing as I try to type in my computer passcode. I have to hit the delete key three times. Nerves aren’t the only source of the shakes. I’m still drenched, my shirt and shorts darkened with rainwater, and my hair drips water down my back. The blast from the air conditioner sends goosebumps down my arms and legs.
With athletic grace, Beau reaches out to the overstuffed chair next to us and plucks the cream flannel throw off its arm. He shakes it out and tents it over both our shoulders, uniting us in its warmth.
The gesture is so unexpected, so comforting, I have to hold back a sigh. I manage a hoarse Thank you and log into my email and Instagram accounts. Beau opens tabs to the Twitter and Facebook login pages.
“You trust me with this?” he asks, his eyes earnest and open. “Because you can—”
“I trust you.” The words come easily because I have no doubt. I’ve only known Beau for about a month, but somehow he’s here when no one else is, helping me do something I should have done a long time ago.
I give him my usernames and passwords. “But hold on. Don’t log in yet,” I say, trying to think three steps ahead. Beau’s laptop is a new device. “When you log in, it’ll send an email notification here,” I say pointing to my Gmail account.
Beau nods. “Then change your password there first.”
I blow out a breath, wondering if Moira has any two-factor authentication methods set up that I’m not aware of.
I bite my lip and check the time on my laptop taskbar: 10:54. I have six