Page 49 of Holly's Grizzly

Perfect. All in working order.

Vic sets my pack in the back of the car, closes the hatch, and we both spend a couple of minutes clearing away the snow that’s piled up on the roof and windshield over the last few days.

When we’re finished, I slide back into the driver’s seat and Vic stops just beside the car with his hands in his pockets. He hovers there for a moment, hesitating before he leaves.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say softly. “I’m good to take it from here.”

He nods. “Roads should be better the rest of the way down.”

I nod, too, and am just about to reach for my door when he speaks again.

“Drive safe, Holly. And… don’t write the big guy off, alright? I don’t want to pry or insert myself where I shouldn’t, but… just don’t write him off. Even if he did something as monumentally stupid as letting you leave.”

“I won’t,” I whisper.

“Alright,” Vic says, satisfied, like he’s said his piece and done his duty to his friend.

After insisting I take his number in case I run into any trouble on the road, he climbs back into his truck and drives off. It leaves me alone, idling at the trailhead with my heart in my throat and no idea what to do.

I rest my forehead on the steering wheel.

My lungs are too tight, and it’s hard to get a full breath in. Indecision and doubt and that same cloying feeling of wrongness crowd in until I can barely think around them.

I tap my forehead against the wheel once, twice, again, like that might knock some sense into me.

God, what did I just do?

If I was panicking, maybe Irving was, too.

Maybe he didn’t know what to say, how to process all of this. Maybe he freaked the hell out just like I did and froze up.

Maybe leaving was a gigantic mistake.

My hands are moving before I’ve fully registered making a decision. I throw the car into reverse, pulling out of the parkinglot and heading for the winding mountain road I just came down with Vic.

Reckless, idiotic, impulsive, are just a few of the words that come to mind as I navigate the narrow, steep route back up into the mountains, but none of them are going to stop me.

I have to know.

Even if the answer is a resoundingno, I have to know.

It’s what Irving has been making me feel bold enough to do since the night he brought me to his cabin, isn’t it? Ask for what I want. Let go of any guilt I might feel about accepting what’s offered to me.

For the first time in a long time, I’m going to do just that. And even if I don’t get the answer I’m hoping for, I won’t apologize for being brave enough to make my own wants known.

Now all I can do is hope my kind, wonderful, handsome bear shifter feels the same.

20

Holly

I white-knuckle the steering wheel all the way back to Irving’s cabin.

The roads are passable, but it’s still more treacherous driving than I’m used to. By the time I make it back, I’m painfully glad to be out of the car with solid ground beneath me.

It’s almost fully dark out as my boots crunch over the gravel of the driveway, and with a deep breath to steady myself, I reach up and knock on Irving’s door.

Only to get no response.

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