Rhett didn’t hesitate. “Baby, I’ll be your passenger penis anytime you want.”
I choked on a laugh, half startled, half delighted. It burst out of me before I could stop it—loud, unguarded, and real.
He grinned like he’d just won the lottery.
“You’re the worst,” I said, still laughing.
“Only the best parts,” he said with a wink, leaning back, completely at ease.
And as I pulled onto the snowy road, my car full of warmth and inappropriate charm and something I wasn’t quite ready to name—I didn’t feel alone.
Not anymore.
The roads were clear enough, the snow compacted into neat lanes bordered by trees still flocked in white. The whole world looked soft around the edges, like it hadn’t quite woken up yet.
Rhett, however, hadnosuch delay.
He leaned back in the passenger seat, one arm slung across the console like he belonged there permanently. The music he'd queued up was a ridiculous mix of upbeat funk and indie covers, and he was drumming on his thighs with more rhythm than I wanted to admit was impressive.
“Do you do this in every car you ride in?” I asked as we turned onto the main road out of the forest.
“Only the ones with hot drivers,” he said, flashing a grin. “Also, ones with working speakers. I have standards.”
I shook my head, but I couldn’t help smiling. His energy was infectious—big, bright, and impossible to ignore. He was like a campfire, warm and a little wild, always drawing you closer whether you meant to come or not.
Somewhere around the thirty-minute mark, the music mellowed and so did he. His fingers moved lazily against the console, more a comfort than a beat now.
“So,” I said, “fifteen cousins? Was that an exaggeration or real numbers?”
Rhett huffed a laugh. “Thatwas just the ones I see regularly. If we’re countingallof them, it’s more like thirty-something. Both of my parents come from huge families—five siblings on one side, six on the other. And everyone bred like they were trying to start their own colony.”
“God,” I said, wide-eyed, “that’s not a family tree. That’s a forest.”
He grinned. “Exactly. We’ve got this…compoundat home. My mom’s parents and my dad’s parents both live there—opposite ends of the land. Bunch of little cottages scattered around, one big main house where everyone eats and drinks and yells at football games.”
I blinked. “Wait, like a literal family compound?”
“Oh yeah. We’ve got bunk rooms, guest suites, one of those industrial kitchens that could feed an army. There’s a pool, a pond, an old converted barn that we turn into a party hall during the holidays. If you bring someone home for Christmas, they basically need a map and a buddy system.”
“Is that… normal?” I asked, enchanted despite myself.
“God, no,” Rhett said, grinning. “But it’s ours. Loud as hell, kind of chaotic, but it’s home.”
I glanced over at him. He looked soeasyin that moment—no posing, no playacting. Just Rhett, warm and open, talking about his clan like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” I said quietly.
He glanced at me, sensing the shift. “Yeah?”
“My family’s… not exactly like that.”
He didn’t push, just let the silence stretch until I found my words.
“My mom left when I was little,” I said finally, eyes still on the road. “My parents tried, I think. But they were never really… a match. My mom was post-heat wildness, and my dad—he wanted something stable. I think I was the moment they tried to get serious, but it didn’t work.”
There was no bitterness in my voice, not anymore. Just the truth.
“I was a heat accident,” I added, the words coming out more easily than I expected. “Used to hate saying that out loud. Like it made me a mistake.”
