Becca sat silently beside me—unlike my ex-wife who would’ve sighed or said something to imply that I was overreacting. Guilt and anger at my own reaction to her offer washed over me. I gritted my teeth, trying to understand why I was in such a bad mood. It was more than Hank, my parents, and the blizzard. No—I was confident it was because the power had returned. But how did I explain that to Becca? My thoughts raced, and before I could come up with an explanation, Becca reached out and placed her hand on my arm.
“Harrison,” she said in a kind, soft voice, “I really do understand. No explanation needed. I’d like to think we’re precious cargo, so I prefer to arrive in one piece.” She squeezed her tiny fingers around me for a second before letting go.
In all of my life, no one had ever simply accepted my desire not to talk. No one. Not my friends, my assistant coaches, my family, or my ex-wife. But Becca did, and I had no idea why my chest tightened at her acceptance.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BECCA
We will not crash. Everything is fine.
I held on to the side bar so tightly that my knuckles hurt. Harrison’s face was etched with worry lines, and I swore sweat pooled on his forehead, which was not a good sign. Plus it wasfreezing. The roads were the devil’s version of an obstacle course, and it was a dumb idea for us to drive to his sister’s. We should’ve bunkered down and stayed warm and cozy in his house.
“Almost there. Promise.” He clenched his teeth, his tone not easing my worry.
“Cool, great.” I swallowed hard as the truck slid a few feet to the right. The radio crackled with Christmas songs, and Harrison exhaled loudly every thirty seconds. Even though my nerves tended to make me more talkative, this called for silence. Instead, I tapped my toe along with the holiday music rather than focusing on the weightless feeling in my stomach. His truck had to be at least three times the size of my Camry.Thank goodness Harrison drives this beast.
After what felt like an hour, Harrison pulled onto a neighborhood street with high snowdrifts lining each side. White was everywhere. Endless. Like we were stuck in a snow globe that had way too much power in it.
“Holy balls.” I blew out a surprised breath.
“Looks like they haven’t plowed this street yet,” Harrison grumbled, irritation lacing every word. “Hell, where is the actual road?”
Excellent question, blizzard buddy.
“Can your truck make it through those drifts or do we stay here until the gas runs out and we freeze to death?”
He snorted and silently studied the road ahead.
I blinked a few times, hoping the vision of the blizzard-hit street was an illusion, but it remained the same. Tall white walls of snow led up to the second stories of some houses. “Please tell me your sister’s house is the first one on the right.”
“That would be too easy. She’s seven down.” He let out a curse and wiped his hands over his face. “I’ll take it slow, and I guess we’ll see if this four-wheel drive is good for anything. If I feel even a little bit stuck, we’ll park here and walk.”
Be brave.
“You got it, Coach.”
He smiled, just for a second, before his face tightened with absolute focus. He pressed down on the gas. The truck roared and made a high-pitched squeal I’d never heard before. About five seconds later, the truck lurched forward and climbed over the snowdrifts.
“This is wild,” I gasped.
“Four-wheel drive, baby. Whoo!” Harrison cheered, sounding absolutely manic. I couldn’t blame him. We were in Santa’s sleigh, cruising over these huge drifts.
I let out a relieved laugh. “I’ll never make fun of a giant truck again.”
Harrison’s dark brows furrowed, confused at my statement.
“You know? Large trucks mean a small…you know.”
“Not true.” His smirk grew. “At least, not with me.”
“Don’t look overconfident, Truck Boy. I said I’d never make fun of them again. Unless they have truck balls. I’m not a fan of those dangly sacks, and nothing will convince me otherwise.”
“Truck balls?” His voice rose an octave. “What the actual hell are you talking about, Becca?”
“You know what I mean. Some guys actually spend money and hang a ball sack from the back of the trailer hitch. There was this guy in high school who had one, and he parked next to me all year. I hated him. I took a black marker and drew pubes all over it to piss him off, but it backfired. He liked it so much all his friends did it, and I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”
“You… you are the most interesting person.” He took his gaze off the road for a brief second and gave me an unguarded smile. “I can assure you I don’t havetruckballs.”
