Page 4 of Love Story

I pulled over, my tires crunching over the compacted snow as I flicked on my hazards and killed the engine.The icy wind cut through my coat when I stepped out, biting at my cheeks and numbing my fingers.The car before me had seen better days—a battered scarlet Prius with a front end half-buried in a slushy mix of mud and snow.A layer of frost and grime dulled its paint, and as I approached, the wind whipped around me, the snowflakes stinging like tiny needles.

Leaning closer, I squinted through the frosted driver’s side window, my breath fogging the glass.

There was someone inside.

A man slumped over the wheel, his short dark hair sticking up in uneven tufts.For a second, my stomach dropped.He wasn’t moving, and for a heartbeat, I thought—

I knocked on the window hard enough to startle myself.“Hey!You okay in there?”

The figure shifted, groaning as he turned his head toward me.Relief hit me fast and sharp.He was alive, thank God.

“Hey, can you hear me?”I knocked again, this time with less force, my voice cutting through the muffling quiet of the snow.

The man blinked, his jade-green eyes glassy, as he tried to focus on me.His face was pale, and his lips were tinged with a bluish hue that didn’t look right.He squinted as if it took effort to lift his head, his breath fogging the window, and then he opened his eyes wider as he tried to focus on me and failed.

“Hold on,” I said, more to myself than him, as I yanked at the car door.It was locked, of course, and I tapped on the window.“Hey, unlock the door if you can.”

His hand fumbled for the lock, shaking as he managed to hit the button.The door gave aclick, and I pulled it open, the cold air rushing into the small space.He shivered, and that was when I realized how badly off he was.He had no coat, just a thin hoodie and jeans, and with the engine off, he was sitting in an icebox.His hands were bare, his fingers trembling on the steering wheel.

“Shit, should I try to move you?What if your neck…” I reached in to touch his shoulder, and he winced.“I need to call paramedics,” I told him, but more for myself.“What the hell are you doing out here dressed like that?”I asked, crouching down to get a better look at him.My tone was sharper than I intended, but I was rattled.He didn’t answer.He leaned back against the seat and rolled his neck—okay then, no neck injury.Or would he still move if he was paralyzed?

“Okay,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm.“Stay there, and I’ll get a blanket.”

I headed to my truck, scrambling up the small bank, but a noise behind me—a groan—had me turning back—the idiot had climbed out of the car and fallen to his knees in the snow.

“Jesus… what are you… We need to get you somewhere warm.Can you walk?”

He shook his head a little, his gorgeous eyes drifting shut.

“Hey, no.No sleeping.Come on.”I slid an arm under his body to support him.He was too light, worryingly so, and his legs refused to cooperate as he staggered against me.His breath hitched, and for a moment, I feared he might pass out again.

“Easy,” I said, practically carrying him to my truck.“You’re okay.I’ve got you.”

Whoever this guy was, he hadn’t planned to end up here, not in a ditch in the middle of nowhere.And judging by his state—pale, shivering, a bump rising on his head—he wouldn’t last much longer in this weather if I didn’t do something.

“What’s your name?”I asked, my voice steady despite the growing knot of worry in my chest.

He groaned, his voice barely above a whisper.“Huh.”

“Your name?”

He closed his eyes, and I poked him.“Open your eyes!”I ordered, and he blinked at me.“What’s your name?”

“B-b-Ben,” he managed.At least he was coherent.

“Okay, Ben,” I said, glancing at him as I reached into the back seat and grabbed the emergency blanket I always kept there.He was so small, curled in on himself, his breath coming in shallow puffs of white.He blinked at me, green eyes bright with emotion and it struck me like a fist to the chest.

“You’re safe now,” I murmured, buckling him into the passenger seat and wrapping the blanket around him.My fingers brushed his as I tucked the edges in, and I felt how cold he was—too cold.His trembling only worsened, and something fierce and protective rose inside me.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the heating controls as I blasted warm air into the cab.Was that the right thing to do?It wasn’t as if I was stopping to consult the internet.The vents roared to life, and I adjusted them to point toward him.He shivered harder, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, his teeth chattering.

“Hang in there, Ben,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I reversed onto the road and focused on steering us back to solid ground.

As the truck found traction, I glanced at him again.His head lolled against the seat, the bump on his forehead looked worse out from beneath the shadows of the pine trees lining the road.I debated my options.I could take him to my parents’ place—Mom would know what to do.She’d fuss over him, get him warm, and ensure he was okay.But that bump on his head… What if it was more serious?What if he needed more help than Mom’s fussing and hot soup could provide?

I decided before I could second-guess myself.I tightened my grip on the wheel and turned onto the main road, heading straight for the hospital.The snow continued to fall thick and fast, but the thought of getting Ben somewhere safe kept me focused.

“Almost there,” I said, more to myself than to him as I pressed the gas pedal gently, the truck humming steadily beneath us.He didn’t respond, his head lolling again, but his breathing was steady, and that was enough to keep me going.

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