Page 27 of No Way Home
He wasn’t asking and I was so cold it actually hurt. So I nodded and grabbed my purse. When I stepped out, the wind gusted so hard it took my breath away—sleet hit me in the face and ran down my neck. His arm came around my waist, he walked me around to the passenger’s side door, and helped me inside.
“Take off your coat. You’re soaked.” He shut the door, and I immediately forgot what he’d told me to do. I watched him jog around the front of the vehicle.
Oh yeah. Take off my coat.
I reached up, trying to grab my zipper but I couldn’t get my fingers to stop shaking enough to grasp it.
When he climbed in, he saw me trying and failing. So he reached over and did it for me. Once I was out of the coat, he turned the air up full blast. It was freezing.
He held his hand in front of a vent. “My heat is having issues. I’m going to fix it while I’m home for Christmas. Hopefully it’ll be warm enough. At least until we get you back to your apartment.”
I nodded but my entire body was convulsing, colder than I’d ever been. “Wh-what a-about m-my c-c-car?”
He turned off his hazards and slowly pressed down on the gas. “We can call a tow truck in a bit. Right now, we need to make sure you’re okay.” A few seconds later, he said, “Magnolia? Did you hear what I said?”
My eyes fluttered open. “Wha..? S-sowey?” Why did I sound drunk? “I’m so…” A large exhale rattled in my ribs. “T-t-tirer…” I tried again. “Triered. T-t-ittered.”
We came around a curve and Bowen swore, tapping on the brake over and over until we eased to a stop.
I widened my eyes, trying to clear my vision. A massive oak tree, that had to be at least a hundred years old, had fallen across the road. Ice storms in Virginia brought trees down all over the place.
For some reason, a snort shot out of my nose. “Wou you wook at d-d-dat?”
Bowen swore again and flipped the hazards back on.
“Wuh we doin?” I snorted a second time, clapping a hand over my mouth, laughing harder at how stupid I sounded.
He put the car in park. “We need to get you warmer.” He climbed into the back.
Everything started spinning, so I closed my eyes. Material rustled behind me. It sounded like he was wrestling a sleeping bag, but I was too tired to turn around and see.
“Hey.” He shook me. “Don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake.”
But my eyes closed anyway.
Some time later—I wasn’t sure how long—I felt him scoop me up and carry me into the back, his breath warm against my cheek. There were two bench seats but they were vertical, attached to the side walls, leaving an open section of floor in the middle. He set me down, both of us kneeling on top of—yup—a sleeping bag.
“We have to get undressed,” he said, totally serious.
“Whu?” I slurred. “N-no way.”
“Yes way.” He shook me again. He peeled his shirt off to reveal…abs. So many glorious abs. Even drunk, I could appreciate that.Why am I drunk?I don’t drink. I blinked, totally ogling him, certain I was hallucinating. Because no one had abs that perfect outside of anatomy apps.
I studied the rest of him. “L-l-look at your d-deltoids.” I touched his shoulder.
He swatted my hand away, working on his shoelaces.
“And y-y-your l-l-ats.” I touched those too. “S-s-serrates ant-t-terior, trapezius. Oh, and b-b-biceps brachii.” I sighed like a twitterpated schoolgirl.
His pectorals flexed as he undid his belt. “Let’s go. We need to generate some heat.”
“W-wow…za.” I giggled. My shaking hands raked down his entire torso. “D-d-d-dang.” A loud guffaw shot out of my nose. “You…” I swayed and he caught me. “A-arehot.” I took another swipe down his abs.
“Oh-kay.” He chuckled as his jeans fell to his knees, revealing plaid boxers. My eyes bulged like he was doing a Magic Mike dance and not trying to save my life.
I covered my face, peeking between my fingers. “Oh…m-my.” But then I reached out to run my finger over the edge of his boxers. “I l-like those.”
“Your hands are freezing.” He shuddered. “Come on, Magnolia. Start undressing.”
