Grace almost drove past the red light.
It wasn't the heavy rain, nor her speed — it was her heart, overflowing with something she couldn't name.
Eli's presence had struck her like lightning — a flash that burned through both her heart and body. Even through the rain-streaked windshield, she could see someone at the crossing shouting angrily, their umbrella twisting in the wind. Grace quickly lowered her head, offering an apologetic smile, faint and guilty.
Her chest still throbbed with a strange heat. The image of Eli — his soaked shirt clinging to his slender frame, droplets sliding down the curve of his neck — replayed in her mind without mercy.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
What am I thinking, really?
The question came softly, half a whisper, half a plea. She hated how easily the thought of him unsettled her, how his face kept slipping into her mind like a forbidden melody.
She felt guilty — deeply, foolishly guilty — but she didn't try to push the feelings away. She knew herself too well. The more she tried to suppress them, the stronger they'd return.
"Eli…" she breathed, barely a whisper.
The name lingered in the quiet hum of the car, as she slowed her speed — hoping that by driving slower, she could calm the storm within her.