"Talk to me," I shout over the thunderous rain. She wanted that kiss as much as I did. I know she did. She said so. "What's wrong? What did I do wrong?"

She shakes her head, and her bottom lip trembles. I can't tell if it's because she's cold or because she's crying. God, please don't let her be crying. I drag my hand down her arm and lace our fingers. She doesn't pull away.

"Please, Belle." If she doesn't tell me what's wrong, I don't know what I'll do. ...