Page 28 of A Curvy Girl’s Hurricane Survival Guide

“Is that a firefly?” I ask.

She smiles and holds it up to get a closer look. “I think these aren’t what people call fireflies. Cocuyos are like a beetle, I think, but they glow like one.”

In the darkness of the closet, as she holds the glowing insect close to her face, it illuminates her eyes and smile in an otherworldly haze. “There’s a lot of Cuban folklore where Cocuyos are prominent symbols of nostalgia and childhood. It’s pretty fitting; I haven’t seen one in years! I use them as symbols in stories I’ve written to represent magic. Santeros, you know, those who practice Santeria, they used to think that the glow from a cocuyo, or firefly, would mean that the Orishas were nearby.”

As if realizing Cai’s explanation is over, the little beetle flies off, its glow disappearing into the darkness.

“What a strange thing to find in here,” she says listlessly, her eyes slightly unfocused. Then, as if waking from a trance, she snaps back, clears her throat, and stretches as if resetting herself.

“Where were we?” Cai scans the top shelf, continuing her search for the supplies, rising onto her toes. “I think it’s that one up there.” She stretches but comes up short. “Think you can give me a boost?”

My heart skips. My mouth goes dry. “Sure,” I manage, lacing my fingers together to make a step.

She places one hand on my shoulder for balance and steps into my hands. Cai holds onto the shelf with her other hand as she steps up; her soft thigh presses against the side of my face. I try to focus on anything else: the musty scent of old clothes, the tempest outside, and the faint smell of cumin still clinging to her, but it is impossible. Every inch of me is suddenly, acutely aware of her.

“Oh, I think this is it—” she starts.

A deafening clap of thunder shakes the house. The lights cut out completely, plunging the closet into total darkness.

Cai lets out a surprised squeak and jumps slightly, shifting her weight and causing her to fall. I moved on instinct, trying to catch her. The result is us tumbling together, her back hitting the wall, my body pressing flush against hers to keep us both upright. Our faces are inches apart. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest brushing against mine, the heat of her breath ghosting across my lips in the pitch-black.

My hands are braced on either side of her shoulders, caging her in without meaning to. The air between us suddenly becomes thick, charged with the storm outside and something far more dangerous inside. I can smell savory notes from dinner still clinging to her skin, mixed with the floral, clean scent of her shampoo. Every shallow inhale presses her curves more firmly against me—soft breasts, the gentle swell of her hips, the tender grounding of her thighs against my own, my face still tingling where her thigh had been moments ago.

“You okay?” I rasp, my voice low and rough in the darkness.

She doesn’t answer right away. Her breathing stays quick and uneven, matching mine. One of her hands has landed on my chest, fingers curled lightly into my shirt like she is holding on. Or maybe deciding whether to push me away.

“I… yeah,” she whispers. Her voice trembles just enough to make my pulse spike. “I think so. The thunder just startled me.”

Neither of us moves.

The storm moans outside, taunting us in our current predicament. The rain is hammering the roof like it wants to drown out everything else. In the dark, every other sense sharpens. The heat radiates from her body. The way her hips shift slightly as she tries to steady herself, brushing against me in a way that sends a rush of blood south. My jaw tightens as I fight the urge to close the last inch between us, to taste the breath she keeps exhaling against my mouth.

This is dangerous. She is still tangled up with Trevor in her head. I’m still hiding who I really am. But right now, with the power out and the world reduced to this tiny, dark closet, none of that seems to matter as much as the way her fingers are slowly tightening in my shirt.

“Sonny…” She breathes my name like a question. Like a warning. Like a plea.

I swallow hard, my forehead nearly resting against hers. “Tell me to step back and I will.”

She doesn’t.

For one suspended heartbeat, the only sound is our breathing and the distant rumble of thunder. Her free hand finds my waist, pressing against me, sending a current through my body. I can feel the softness of her body yielding against the harder lines of mine, the way her curves fit so perfectly in the small space between us. My blood roars in my ears. It would be so easy to lean in, to slide my hand down the curve of her waist, to pull her even closer and finally⁠—

A loud voice echoes from the hallway. “Cai? Sonny? You two okay in there? We found the big lantern!”

The spell shatters.

Cai stiffens, her hand dropping from my waist as if she had only just noticed it was there. I force myself to step back, as I should’ve from the start. The sudden absence of her body against mine hits me like cold air. My heart is still hammering as dim light begins to filter in from the hallway; someone’s coming with a flashlight.

“Yeah,” Cai calls back, her voice shaky but steady enough. “We’re fine. Just… dropped the box.”

She turns toward the light, but not before I catch the rosiness on her cheeks. Her eyes flick back to mine for a split second, wide, conflicted, and full of the same unspoken desire pulsing under my skin.

As we step out of the closet, the storm still raging outside, I know one thing with absolute certainty:

This isn’t just a storm outside anymore. There is another building right between us.

CAI