Whirlwind

by Kayla Grosse

To anyone who’s ever wanted to bang a fictional storm chaser… This book is for you.

Me to Glen Powell in Twisters

We don’t want you to get sucked up by some tornado.”

Valid fear

We’ve got a twister to tame —who the fuck even says that out loud? Me, apparently. I’m that asshole. I don’t take my words back, though, because my internet-famous saying makes Finley chuckle, the sound soft and lyrical.

Definitely Tyler Owens coded

“Is that the Dead Man Walking tornado from last weekend?”

Hard pass, those are terrifying

The two funnels look like a man walking through the sky, destroying anything in its path. That’s why it’s called “Dead Man Walking”—they are a truly terrifying but amazing phenomena of Mother Nature.

Mother Nature is a scary bitch

It’s utterly dark behind us, and I think the fucking thing is rain wrapped now, hiding how massive it is—and how truly close it is to us as well.

My anxiety is SO high

“Ryker.” His name leaves me in a whisper. He blinks but doesn’t stop staring, his hold on me only tightening as our heads dip closer together. “Tell me not to kiss you, Finley.”

“And if I don’t want to?” “Then tell me what I feel for you is wrong. That I need to get up and walk away.” His breath skitters over my lips, reminding me that he’s alive. I’m alive. We lived through a tornado and made it out with hardly a scratch on us. I think, if anything, we deserve this kiss, need this kiss more than we need anything else right now. “I’m not going to tell you that, either,” I murmur.

“Fuck me, Professor.”

Girl

my body slowly coming down from the adrenaline of the tornado and the best sex of my life.

In a DITCH

If it isn’t the Tornado Daddy in the flesh!”

“It’s never too early to call someone Daddy. Especially when said Daddy has got such great biceps.”

“Hold on to your balls, Joseph.” He smirks at me. “Don’t you mean hat?” I answer by turning up the music I had on low, and “Nothin’ But a Good Time” by Poison blasts through the speakers before I punch the gas, sending Joey flying back against his seat. Grandpa, my ass.

“You were serious?” Joey smirks, handing the rocket back to Ryker so he can hold out the front of his shirt. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice.” A snort of laughter breaks through my lips when I see what’s vexing my professor. In the time Joey walked away and came back, he removed the button-up he had on and is showing off the custom T-shirt he had made—or maybe he made it himself. It has a collage of different images of Ryker’s face from chases over the years with “Tornado Daddy” printed over the top of it.

“I knew you could be an idiot sometimes, but I didn’t think you were that much of an idiot. She’s your student, Ryker—you’re her mentor!” He hisses the last part quietly. I grind my teeth. “Like I didn’t fucking know that? I’m beating myself up about it enough already. I know it was stupid and reckless—I told Finley as much after it happened.” Hawk punches me again, and I grunt. “What the hell was that one for?” “You told her that?” “Not those exact words, but she knows I regret it. I think she feels the same way.” “You’re more than just an idiot—you’re a complete idiot.”

“Alright, I have bad news.” The four of us turn to Hawk, who’s walking up with an envelope in his hand. “They only have two rooms left.

“I am being selfish, I know that,” he says. “And I won’t deny that watching Joey flirt with you all day and seeing the way all those men looked at you in there makes me want to pull you close and never let go. But the moment I lied, I knew it was a mistake. I don’t regret us, Finley. I can’t regret you.”

“If you kiss me, you can’t take it back.” He strokes my cheek and rests his forehead on mine. “I won’t. I won’t take it back.” “If you do—” “Baby,” he hushes. “I’m not going to take it back.”

“Come on, Ms. Buckley,” he taunts. “I’ll give you extra credit if you soak my beard.”

SIR

“And if it doesn’t work out?” He shrugs. “Then it doesn’t work out. But if you don’t chase the storm, you’ll never know if you’ll catch it or not.” I smile at his analogy. “And you?” “Me, what?” “Are you going to chase your storm?” A devilish smile appears on his lips, and he tips the brim of his cowboy hat. “He’s chasing me, darlin’, but I think I’ll let myself be caught.”