Page 17 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“Hey,” I yelled out my passenger side window through the clattering rain.

Mason didn’t hear me at first. I tap-honked on my horn, and finally he let down his arm and looked over.

“All good,” he yelled, waving me off. I was pretty sure he couldn’t tell it was me through the rain.

“Mason, it’s Jesse,” I yelled. “Get the fuck in the car.”

He shoved his wet hair back with his palms, squinting at me. “Oh. Jesse?”

“Get in the car,” I repeated.

“The ranch is close enough—”

For a moment I was gearing up to get out into the rain myself and pull him into the car. But finally, he relented, trudging over onto the road and opening the passenger side door.

“Move it.”

“You sure? I’m going to get the seat all wet.”

“I know, and I don’t give a damn. Get in.”

He sat down and shut the door. I closed the windows again and suddenly the noise in the car became quiet, sheltered from the rain.

Mason was breathing heavily. Droplets of water clung to the tips of his hair, his eyelashes, and every inch of his clothes.

“You told me you were calling a cab,” I said, furrowing my brow.

He caught my gaze. “I told you I had transportation covered,” he corrected. “That didn’t mean a cab. I would have been fine without your pity.”

I paused for a moment. “Are you serious? You’re giving me attitude when I just offered your soaked ass a ride?”

He suddenly looked my way, rage in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for a ride. Just because hockey fans blow smoke up your ass doesn’t mean I have to.”

“You’re the one who wanted the whole bar’s attention. Then when I gave you mine, you toyed with me, then treated me like shit the moment you knew I was Kane’s brother.”

“I’m not treating you like shit,” he said. “I’m trying to stay the hell away from you.”

“Trust me, I can tell.”

He looked up at the car ceiling, his jaw tense. I watched droplets of water slide down his throat, making perfect little lines from his facial hair to his Adam’s apple.

He still looked good, even if he was certifiably insane.

After a moment, his blue eyes landed on me again. “Trust me, it’s not you,” he said. “Okay?”

“You really going to tell meit’s not you, it’s meon the first night we met?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying it’s not personal. I don’t want to hang out with Kane’s younger brother.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Just don’t.”

“Well, I don’t tend to do well with rules,” I said. “Especially when they exist for no reason.”

“Fine. Thank you for the ride, Jesse. I’ll accept the lift home, but I don’t want tochill, or hear you talking about how you want me to call you daddy.”

A laugh escaped my throat, unbidden. “Excuse me?”

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