The rain came down like the world was crying with her.
Sierra stood in the middle of the darkened street, her breath coming in heavy gasps, her heart still racing. The storm had come out of nowhere, the sky breaking open as though the heavens themselves couldn’t hold it any longer.
Raindrops lashed against her face, soaking her through within seconds, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch as the cold drenched her, her clothes sticking to her skin like a second layer. It was a feeling she hadn’t expected, but it was one that mirrored the wildness inside her.
She had told herself she wouldn’t come back. She had tried to keep the distance between them, tried to run away from everything that had been building. But somewhere between the ache of Kellan’s betrayal and the pull of Rowan’s presence, she had found herself walking back toward him.
She couldn’t explain it—this draw she had toward him, this feeling that each time their paths crossed, something deeper inside her awakened. She didn’t know what to do with it, and yet, here she was, in the middle of the storm, looking for him.
Her mind kept racing, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered in this moment except the pull, the urgency that had taken over.
And then, she saw him. Standing in the doorway of the small cabin at the edge of the woods, drenched from head to toe, his shirt clinging to his chest, his eyes soft and intense. He didn’t move as she approached, just stood there, waiting for her, as if he had known she would come. As if he had always known.
The rain beat against the ground with a steady rhythm, but all Sierra could hear was the thudding of her own heart. She didn’t stop walking. She couldn’t. The space between them felt too wide, too unbearable.
“You always come back,” Rowan said finally, voice low, rough—like thunder still rumbling in his chest.
Sierra froze.
She hadn’t expected him to speak. She hadn’t expected him to wait. But there he stood, rain dripping from his dark hair, clothes soaked, and eyes—those damn eyes—burning straight into her.
“I didn’t come for you,” she whispered.
His lips twitched. “No?”
She swallowed hard, her boots sinking slightly into the muddy ground. “I came for air. For space.”
“Looks like you found me instead.”
Lightning cracked overhead, and for a heartbeat, everything lit up—his face, his expression, the storm mirrored in his gaze.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, though her voice betrayed her, softening even as the words left her mouth.
“I shouldn’t do a lot of things,” he murmured, taking one step closer. “Doesn’t stop me.”
Neither of them moved for a moment. The wind whipped around them, the trees bending and groaning in protest, but Sierra barely noticed. The storm wasn’t outside—it was inside her.
“You always look at me like that,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Like I’m a choice you already made.”
“I did,” he said. “The moment I saw you, Sierra.”
Her breath caught.
And then she moved.
Her feet closed the distance before her mind could scream at her to stop. She reached up, fingers brushing against the stubble along his jaw, trailing along the curve of his cheek. His skin was cold from the rain—but God, the heat in his eyes could burn down worlds.
“Tell me this means nothing,” she whispered, the words shaking as they left her lips. “Lie to me. Give me a reason to walk away.”
Rowan didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. He just leaned down, so close their noses nearly touched, the rain dripping between them.
“I can’t,” he said. “Because I’ve tried. And you’re still the only storm I’d run into willingly.”
Her heart cracked open.
And then—she kissed him.
No hesitation. No apologies. Just fire.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t soft. It was teeth and hands and years of tension breaking like thunder between them. His arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her in like he’d been dying to touch her. The rain poured, soaking them to the bone, but neither of them cared. It only made everything sharper. Wilder.
Sierra’s hands curled in his shirt, dragging him impossibly closer. She kissed him like she was drowning and he was the only thing anchoring her to the earth. And when they finally broke apart, just enough to breathe, she whispered against his lips, voice raw:
“This is a mistake.”
Rowan’s forehead pressed against hers, his breath warm in the rain-chilled air.
“Then let’s make it again.”