“I told you, when the time comes, you’ll be the one to forfeit,” I promised before giving him another kiss.
34
WINTER BREAK
We huggedthe coastline for most of the drive. The waves and mountains sandwich us on a half-empty highway. Everyone else had flown south for the winter. David and I agreed that going further north was better.
“I have to think of something horrible for your next dare. I refuse to continue being soft,” I said with my arm stretched outside the window, the cold air like pinpricks against my skin. David turned the heater to full blast because he knew I liked the windows down, despite the risk of hypothermia.
“Why not be nice?” David had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh. I kept glancing down at his grip as he applied the exact right amount of pressure. “You know, like I’ve been.”
“I’m way nicer than you’ll ever be.”
“State of delusion give you the keys to the place yet?” he asked. “Need help going over the lease agreement?”
“Only if you’re co-signing,” I said sweetly.
David chuckled and squeezed my thigh. He turned on his blinker for the next exit, pulling off onto anabandoned gas station parking lot. I frowned when he unbuckled his seatbelt. The car stayed on as he opened the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re switching.” He got out of the car before I could protest, coming to my side to open the door for me.
“We’re on vacation,” I said, not moving an inch. Unfortunately, I couldn’t cite my lack of a learner’s permit because I’d spent two hours at the DMV last week to get it.
David’s breath came out in small clouds, his cheeks splotched with red. Despite his thin sweater and gloveless hands, his smile was effortless, with patience firmly in place.
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t seize a learning opportunity,” he said. “Come on, you need to get used to driving in the snow. Now that we’re off the highway, it’ll be less risky.”
I frowned but unbuckled my seatbelt. My yielding came mainly from guilt about how red the tips of his ears had gotten. If he froze to death because of my stubbornness, I’d never forgive myself.
“Okay,” David said once we’d settled into our respective spots. “Quick review before we go: what do you do if you hit a patch of black ice?”
My stomach dipped at the thought. I’d forgotten that was even a possibility. “I’m not going to.”
“It’s a what-if scenario.”
“There’s no what-ifs about it.” My hands squeezed the steering wheel as if we were spinning out-of-control right now.
“I thought we worked through this not being in control of everything?” he asked.
“Progress isn’t linear.”
He laughed. “Fair enough, Daredevil. What you’re going to do is avoid slamming on the brakes. That’ll feel like the natural response, but it’s not.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“If you skid, turn in its direction.” He covered his hand over mine, turning the wheel and squeezing me for a second before letting go. “Pull off to the side of the road once you’ve gained control, and we’ll figure out our next steps. Keep breathing the entire time; you’ll be fine. You got this.”
My shoulders relaxed a bit at his vote of confidence. “You’re not scared I’m going to get us in a serious accident?”
He shook his head. Trust made his dark brown eyes kinder. “Your capabilities are endless.”
I snorted and put the car in drive. “Oh, how flattering.”
“When I compliment you, I get flak. When I offend, I get flak,” he mused. “What can I do that’ll earn me something nice?”
“You don’t like me nice.” I pulled us out of the parking lot with timid hesitation. There were no cars on this stretch of road, and yet, I looked for any and every chance of interference.
