The silence stretched as we pulled out of the parking lot. Snow swirled in the headlights, thick and fast. I watched his hands on the steering wheel—capable hands, steady even as the wind buffeted the truck.
“Thanks for this,” I finally said, because someone had to break the silence before I lost my mind. “You really didn’t have to.”
“It’s fine.”
Two words. He didn’t even glance at me. Cool. Great. This was going to be a fun ride.
I tried again. “So, you guys are stuck at the station for the whole storm?”
“Yep.”
“That sounds…cozy.”
“Mmm.”
I bit back a sigh. Talking to Mason was like pulling teeth.
The road narrowed as we started up the mountain. The snow was thicker here, accumulating fast on the pavement. Mason’s grip tightened on the wheel, his jaw set with concentration.
I should have kept my mouth shut. Let him focus. But the silence was killing me.
“Look, I get it,” I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. “Your friends volunteered you, and now you’re stuck driving me home when you’d rather be anywhere else. I’m sorry you got roped into this. Once you drop me off, you can?—”
The truck fishtailed.
I gasped, grabbing the oh-shit handle as Mason fought the wheel. For a terrifying second, we were sliding sideways, the world outside the windows nothing but white. Then the tires caught—or didn’t catch, because we were suddenly lurching off the road, the truck tilting as we slid into the ditch.
The impact wasn’t bad—more of a jarring stop than a crash. But my heart was pounding like I’d just run a marathon, and my fingers were white-knuckled on the handle.
“You okay?”
Mason’s voice was closer than I expected. I turned to find him twisted in his seat, his eyes—dark, intense,worried—locked on my face.
“I’m fine,” I managed. “Are you?”
He nodded once, then turned back to try the gas. The engine revved, but the tires just spun uselessly. He tried again, rocking the truck forward and back. No luck.
“Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his face, then reached for the radio on his belt. “I’ve gotta call this in.”
I sat in mortified silence as he radioed the firehouse. Conner’s voice came back, crackling with static and barely concealed amusement.
“You gotstuck? With Gabby?” A pause. Someone laughed in the background. “Damn, Mason. That’s tragic.”
“Can you just send somebody?” Mason’s voice was flat.
More crackling. Then Conner again, sounding slightly more serious. “Yeah, about that. There’s a tree down across Main Street near Old Bear Ridge. Must’ve come down right after you passed it. We’re gonna have to cut through it before we can get to you.”
Mason closed his eyes. “How long?”
“Forty-five minutes? Maybe an hour?” Conner paused. “We’ll radio when we’re close. You two just…sit tight. Keep each other warm.”
The radio clicked off.
Mason set it down slowly, staring straight ahead at the snow piling up on the windshield. His jaw was tight. His ears were red again.
An hour. We were stuck here for an hour. In this truck. Together.
The windows were already starting to fog.
