Adrian was already halfway onto the porch, boots crunching against the thin layer of fresh powder. He didn’t seem too fazed by it, and I decided to take that as assurance.
I stepped outside, the warmth of the house closing behind us. The music dimmed as the door shut, leaving only the bite of winter and the three of us hustling to the SUV. The moment I climbed in, the cold clung to my cheeks and the windshield fogged at the edges, the last of the party noise fading into nothing as Ethan started the engine.
“Pick a station, for God’s sake,” Ethan muttered. “You’re driving me crazy.”
Adrian twiddled the knob on the radio a few more times, before settling on a classic holiday station. The snow slapped against the windshield in relentless sheets, wiper blades squealing and scraping, barely keeping a line of sight clear. Ethan’s jaw was set, hands gripping the wheel like it was a life preserver, eyes squinting through the blur of white. I stayed in the back, kneespressed to Adrian’s seat, a sticky twist of unease curling in my stomach.
“Maybe slow down,” Adrian said, voice rising over the wind and the wipers.
Ethan shook his head. “I want to get back before it hits.”
I chewed my lip and glanced at the snow-covered rooftops racing past. I needed a distraction.
“You should’ve seen Em and Sadie tonight,” I said, voice catching slightly in the cab’s rumble. “They were under the tree, poking through the boxes. I don’t think they’ll last till Christmas morning.”
Adrian snorted, turning toward me. “They’ll last as long as you let them. And they have you wrapped around their little fingers.”
“Hey,” I said, jabbing my knee into the back of his seat, “I’m the good cop. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Looks like I’m going to have to put some locks on the gifts when we get back.”
I laughed, the tension loosening just enough to breathe. A jingle popped over the radio, and Adrian crooned along off-key, ignoring Ethan’s mounting threats to get him to stop.
And then the SUV lurched. I grabbed out with both hands, one clamping on the door handle and the other on Adrian’s headrest. My mouth was open, but no sound or breath came out. It all happened so quickly.
The tires slipped on the slick ice, the wheel yanking to the left as Ethan fought for control. The world tilted sideways, a roar of wind and snow flooding the windows, and we skidded off the road, over the sidewalk, crunching through a rising bank that swallowed the wheels. Ethan cursed under his breath as the car settled against the snow, wedged but thankfully upright.
I pressed my hands to the seat in front of me, trying to slow my heartbeat as the storm picked up like it had a personal vendetta. Outside, snow whipped in every direction, a white blur hammering at the glass. Inside, the cab smelled of heated vinyl, wet coats, and adrenaline.
“We’re stuck,” Adrian said in disbelief.
“No shit.” Ethan killed the engine and fell back into his seat.
26
Adrian
The storm outside was a furious, unrelenting blur, and in the confines of Ethan’s car, it felt like we’d been swallowed whole. The heat had been cranked up while driving but after we crashed, Ethan switched to turning it on for a few minutes at a time to save it from dying on us before we got out of here.
We were in an ‘off’ spell, when I muttered, “How about now?”
He held his phone up to the uppermost part of the windshield, searching for bars. “Still nothing, and in anticipation of the next time you ask in two minutes, still nothing. I don’t think that’s changing at all tonight. Not in this.”
“Hey, man, we’ve been stuck here for an hour. Can we keep the snark to a minimum?”
He threw up his hands. “I can’t believe I’m the only one who thought to bring my phone.”
Maren’s knees pushed into the gap between our seats. She’d been sitting like that for a while, trying to stay close to the heat when it came on. Now she pulled her worried gaze off the swirling snow outside.
“This was supposed to be a ten minute round trip,” she said, teeth chattering. “Why would I bring my phone?”
“What she said.” I tapped her knee, and leaned back into my seat. “Also, we should’ve gone outside from the start. There would’ve been less snow to get through. We could’ve easily—”
“I’ve seen you sprain your wrist while doing gorilla squats,” Ethan deadpanned. “Forgive me for doubting your ability to help me drag two tons of metal from a snowbank.”
Maren burst out laughing, then quickly tried to swallow it back when I spun round in my seat to glare at her. “Sorry. I was just picturing you and the gorilla squat.”
Which got Ethan laughing too and soon, what could’ve been all of us freaking out about being stuck, turned into a spontaneous round of truth or dare.
