“Fuck, that took forever,” Aidan mutters, pulling the collar of his wool coat up against the elements.
He hovers in the doorway of the town hall, brow furrowing at the sheets of snow sweeping sideways across the road. In the time it took for us to address every concern about the lighthouse from the residents of Wetherly Cove, the weather changed from bad to worse. The cold creeps under my coat with icy fingers, and I shiver.
“Come on.” Aidan’s hand slides into mine as we step out into the snow, heading for his car. We’ve never held hands before, but it feels so natural, the way he’s careful to make sure I get there safely.
We climb into the car, and he turns the engine on, warming the interior. It only takes a moment for the seat warmer to heat, and I let out a soft hum of gratitude as my butt gets toasty.
Aidan peers through the windshield, expression grim. “I was hoping we could head back to the city, but it’s not worth risking it.” He glances at me. “Good thing the motel is only a couple blocks away.”
Oh.
Shit.
The motel.
My heart lurches, and I drop my gaze, wincing. I knew I’d forgotten something. Aidan asked me to book the motel yesterday, and I meant to, but then the drafting table arrived and I had to help him bring it up the stairs, and then there was that moment in his office where I thought he might kiss me, and…
Fuck. Fuckity-fuck.Fuck.
It doesn’t matter why I didn’t do it. I was supposed to, and now we’re stranded. We’re stranded in this tiny town, in the middle of a blizzard, with nowhere to go.
I’m taking too long to answer, and Aidan’s gaze lands heavily on the side of my face. “Youdidbook the motel, right?”
I try to take a deep breath, but the air doesn’t quite reach my lungs. And when I force my gaze to his, my freezing palms somehow turn clammy.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, voice coming out weird and trembly. “I… I forgot.”
His brows dart together. “What?”
Shit. Here it comes. All the nice moments we’ve shared today, ruined in an instant because of my stupidity.
“I-I meant to,” I stutter, wringing my hands. “But the drafting table arrived, and I got distracted. It—” I try to gulp in another breath. “It totally slipped my mind.”
His brow furrows even deeper, and tears spring unexpectedly to my eyes. I press them closed in shame, wishing I could curl into a ball and disappear.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, bracing for the lecture, the yelling. All the reasons I’m such a fuck-up who always lets everyone down.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, Aidan leans across the center console and pulls me into his arms.
“Hey,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
I don’t know if it’s his proximity or the kindness in his voice, but I suck in a ragged breath as a tear escapes. He draws back to look at me, thumb brushing the tear away, gaze tender as it catches mine in the dim interior light of the car.
“You’re not angry?” I whisper.
“No,” he says, without hesitating. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering. “You’re allowed to make mistakes, Iris.”
I sniffle, trying to make sense of this. I fucked up royally, and he’s not angry. He’s kind and understanding, andGod, it makes me want to climb into his lap and kiss him until we can’t breathe.
“But we do need to find somewhere to sleep,” he adds, stroking my cheek again before letting his hand drop. He turns back in his seat, thinking. “Let’s go to the motel anyway, and hope they have something left.”
I nod, pulling on my seatbelt. My heart batters my ribcage as Aidan crawls along the snowy road, barely able to see ten feet ahead. There’s no way we can drive to the city in this. I cross my fingers and toes, praying the motel has a room. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to. Anything so Aidan doesn’t stop looking at me like that.
The motel parking lot is packed when we arrive, and my stomach falls. We grab our overnight bags and make a beeline for the entrance, brushing snow off our coats as we bustle into the warmth of the small reception office.
“Really coming down out there, huh?” the woman at reception says, smiling as we approach.
I square my shoulders, deciding to take charge. After all, I’m the reason we’re in this mess. I step forward with an air of confidence I don’t feel.
