The Hardest Fall

“What?” he asked distractedly. He had already pushed away from the kitchen sink and was heading toward the windows, at least that was where his voice came from.

I cleared my throat and hugged one arm across my stomach. “Could it be a thief, maybe? Or thieves, plural? More than one? More than three? I stayed here last semester, too, and there was a series of robberies in the neighborhood. They could’ve cut off the power or something to make it easier to break in. We’re being robbed, I think. I saw this movie once with my dad where…” I trailed off.

It was looking like the few buildings around us had also lost their electricity, and the silver moonlight spilling into the apartment made it possible for me to see Dylan’s silhouette turn to me.

Instead of answering, he opened a window to check out on the street. “Yeah, the whole block is down. It’s fine, Zoe. I—”

“Actually, I’m not the biggest fan of—”

“I think you should ease up on the movies.”

“What?” Was that amusement I was hearing in his voice? “Are you smiling right now?” I asked incredulously.

I heard a low chuckle, but before I could respond to it, the universe decided to wrap everything up with a little red bow. The room started spinning, and I glanced down at my feet in confusion. Was I getting dizzy? I wasn’t that scared of the dark. Then the building started shaking, and my horrified gaze flew to the shadow of my roommate.

“Dylan,” I choked out in panic, an intense tremor in my voice.

Two seconds.

“It’s okay. It’ll pass.”

Three seconds.

I turned back and focused my gaze toward where the door was. Run away or stay? Run away or stay?

Four seconds.

“Dylan,” I choked out again, this time louder and more urgently as I swayed forward. My feet were dying to run—to the door, to Dylan, anywhere, really—and take refuge, but at the same time, I couldn’t seem to move an inch. I wrapped my shaking arms tighter around myself.

It would stop.

I heard footsteps.

I swear to God, if he runs away and leaves me behind, I will—

Five seconds.

Six seconds.

The earthquake stopped at the exact moment I felt Dylan’s front at my back and his hand curled around my shoulder.

“That was weird, but it’s over,” Dylan said casually, keeping his hand on me.

My heart started doing this weird thing it had never done before, big powerful thumps in slow motion. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath through the whole thing until I finally released it. My body started shaking as I pulled in deep breaths and let them go through my mouth.

That’s when Dylan put his other hand on my left arm and started rubbing up and down.

“You’re cold,” he mumbled.

Yeah, the dead are usually cold, I thought, but kept it to myself.

I couldn’t even give an answer as I struggled to get my breathing under control. Half an hour before, I would’ve said it was too hot when I was singing. Even the short-sleeved t-shirt I had on had felt like too much at some point, and that was L.A. for you. Now, as Dylan’s hands moved on my naked arms, I felt nothing but cold seeping into my skin. His thumbs slid under my t-shirt every time he swept up.

“We need to get out. We need to get out, right now.” I moved to run straight out the door, but his hands stopped me before I could take more than a few steps.

“Wait—wait a second.” He gripped my elbows and turned me to face him.

“We need to get out,” I repeated, breathing heavily.

Even standing so close to him, I couldn’t see the details of his face, but from the way his head was tipped, I knew his gaze was on me.

“It’s okay, Zoe. It wasn’t a big one.”

“Who says the next one won’t be?”

His hands started moving again, from my wrists, over my elbows, and up, up, up, at a slower pace this time.

“We’re fine right where we are.”

Were we though? Really, were we? I didn’t think so, not with the way the goose bumps prickled my skin where his hands were traveling up and down.

After a few seconds of staring up at the dark shape of his head, I dropped my head and sighed. There was magic in his hands, and slowly their warmth started to warm me up. They weren’t soft, not like my last boyfriend’s had been. He’d used more hand cream than me, which was fine, but Dylan’s hands—they dragged on my skin in the best possible way. I knew I’d remember the feel of them. He was sort of unforgettable.

“I’m really scared of earthquakes,” I whispered, just in case he hadn’t noticed.

“It’s over now. We’re okay.”

“I’m really, really scared of them, Dylan. Why is the power still not back on? Did it go out because of the earthquake?” I was still whispering. Unable to stop myself, I took a step toward him. I was maybe half a step away from actually standing on his feet, my face only inches away from his chest. Me shuffling closer wasn’t a cry for a hug by any means, but when his hands dropped away from my arms and a chill took their place, I felt like a complete idiot, a complete idiot who knew she was an idiot yet still couldn’t find it in her to back away from the safety of the big guy in the room. They always said you should take cover next to strong, sturdy things, right? Well, Dylan Reed was plenty strong and sturdy.

Then I felt a big palm at the base of my spine, which pulled a quiet gasp from somewhere deep within me and caused a very small shiver to work its way through my body. His hand slowly started inching up on my back as if he wasn’t sure if holding me would be okay.

Uh…

That was enough of an answer to a question I wasn’t even thinking of asking. I didn’t wait for vocal confirmation, just buried my cheek in his rock-hard chest and held my breath. His other arm reached around me and rested on my back, a little higher than the other one, and I felt like it was okay to close my eyes. He’d make it okay.

“It was probably just a coincidence and has nothing to do with the earthquake.”

My arms were still wrapped around my stomach so when Dylan gently pulled me even closer to his body, closing that little half-step gap between us, my arms fell apart and I lifted one to rest on his chest, right next to my face and gripped his shirt at his waist with the other.

It was a little unsure, a little awkward. Fine, maybe it wasn’t so much awkward as the best hug I’d had in a while. Let’s call it the best half hug, maybe, because it wasn’t as if he was crushing the life out of me. That would’ve been the perfect hug. The embrace was pretty loose, but it was still a hug, and it was still appreciated.

And dear God, his touch was warm and strong. His cologne was different, dizzying, something warm and spicy, maybe a hint of cedar. Basically it was magic. How did he smell so good at that time of the night? Had he been on a date?

Was it too forward to hug a friend like this? If we were being honest, calling him my buddy or friend was stretching the truth a bit but was I gonna stop or back away? Nope, not a chance in hell. If this was the big one for California and the building was going to come down, I was going to be in the arms of this guy.

With our close proximity, I could hear his strong heartbeat. I tried to keep my focus on that rhythm and match my breathing to it, strong and steady.

When I had it mostly under control, I let out another deep breath. “You must think I’m crazy,” I muttered into his chest.