Page 46 of This

“Your favorite, right?” he asks, lips twitching.

I down the entire thing out of spite.

The scenery is sparse for much of the drive. Then, halfway there, a dusting of white covers the road. More snow falls, hitting the windshield before sliding off with each pass of the wiper blades.

“Have you ever driven in snow?” I ask.

Dane cranks the heater because I am not yet a winter goddess. I’ve been shivering since waking up and have on one of his hoodies over top my own.

“Plenty,” he says. “I lived in Minnesota for a minute. Connecticut, too, but it only snowed once.”

My forehead scrunches. “I thought you lived in LA the two years you were gone.”

“Only the last six months. I bounced a lot before I landed there.” He glances over, his mouth turned up. “It takes a drifter to recognize another drifter.”

“So, why go back?” I bury my freezing hands in the sweatshirt.

Dane shrugs. “It was always the plan. Spend a few years traveling until Liam finished school and then show up like expected.” But his jaw tightens for a split second, the tension gone as fast as it formed.

“You didn’t want to,” I say.

He readjusts his grip on the steering wheel, not answering right away. A remixed pop song fills the space between squeaks of the blades, scraping over the glass, and he focuses on the road with a faraway look in his eyes.

“It was more that I hated it wasn’t on my own terms,” he finally says. “If I had a little more say in the timing, it might not have felt like a noose tightening.”

I understand the suffocation more than most. I stayed in Phoenix for my family, and Dane returned for his. The difference seems to be the reason—mine a choice and his an obligation.

“Although”—he relaxes in his seat, stroking his chin in thought—“the old man summoning me to Phoenix when he did has had a few perks.” His gaze flits to my empty coffee cup and then to me, holding longer than it should, considering he’s driving.

“Dane,” I warn, but he won’t break eye contact, a grin forming as I shift around. “You’re ridiculous,” I say, looking away first.

“You’re beautiful … and about to drive in snow for the first time.”

My eyes snap back to him. “What?”

He slows and pulls onto the shoulder.

“You’re serious?”

Shifting into park, he turns to me. “You have to learn some time.”

“But right now?”

“It is snowing,” he says. He unbuckles his seat belt, and when I don’t move, he clicks mine. “My truck will handle far better than your car, which will need new tires before you move.”

I check up and down the highway, no other cars in sight to save me. Even if there were, it wouldn’t matter because Dane’s out of the truck,skatinghis way around the front end.He slides the last several feet, catching the handle of my door to stop himself and swinging it open. He climbs in and nudges me to the driver’s side.

“Shit, it’s cold.”

As he brushes off the snow, I lower the steering wheel so that I can see over it and move the seat so that my feet aren’t comically far away from the pedals. We strap back in, and Dane sinks into the seat, not offering the least bit of guidance.

“I thought you were teaching me.”

He points straight ahead. “Drive.”

“Helpful,” I say, shifting gears.

Once I ease onto the road, I quickly decide it’s not so bad. The yellow line appears intermittently to keep me on track, and with the wiper blades, the windshield stays clear.

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