Page 52 of Through the Storm

Like this was always going to happen.

KATY

I check my phone and pretend to be surprised by the time.

“Looks like my friends are ready to go. I should probably get going too, they drove me here,” I say, even though I don’t move.

Ben looks at me like that suggestion personally offends him.

“Oh no, I’m driving you.” His voice leaves no room for argument. “There’s zero chance I’m letting you leave with someone else.”

“It’s fine…”

“I know,” he cuts in easily. “But I’m still driving you.”

He turns to his giant friend. “I’m heading out. You good to Uber?”

The guy smirks. “Yeah. Go. I’ll survive.”

His kind brown eyes flick between us, knowing and amused, andsuddenly I feel twelve years old and wildly transparent.

Ben doesn’t wait for my answer. He takes my hand like it’s always belonged there and gently, but decisively, pulls me toward the door.

“Come on,” he says. “Before I change my mind and kidnap you forever instead.”

Logan intercepts us. “Katy, do you need a ride?”

“I got her,” Ben says.

Logan crosses his arms. “I saw you drinking, QB.”

“I don’t drink. It was just soda,” Ben reassures him.

“It’s okay, Logan, I know him well. He really doesn’t drink.”

He raises his hands like he finally approves. “Text the group when you get home.”

“Fine,” I say, giving him a small smile.

Typical Logan. He’s basically the dad of our college friend group and takes keeping us alive very seriously.

Outside, the air is sharp and cold, but my cheeks are still warm. Ben opens the passenger door for me like it’s instinct. Like this is something he’s done a hundred times.

The second we pull away, “Opalite” by Taylor Swift starts playing, and of course he knows every word. In true Ben fashion, he sings at the top of his lungs. This man has never been embarrassed a day in his life.

“Oh my God,” I laugh. “I forgot you liked Taylor Swift.”

He scoffs. “I love her.”

And then we’re singing. Loud. Badly. Windows fogging, laughter spilling out of us until my cheeks hurt. I have to wipe tears from my eyes.

For a few minutes, it feels like nothing has changed.

Like the last three years were just… a pause.

He pulls up in front of my place and puts the car in park, but neither of us moves.

The silence stretches. Not awkward exactly, but heavy.