I laugh, pulling him closer. “We’re not going to die.”
Carter huffs out a breath.
“You don’t know that. It’s really cold, and that tow truck might never come, and Jason might get stuck in a ditch trying to rescue us, and then we’ll all freeze to death, and they’ll find our bodies in the spring thaw.”
“You’re so dramatic,” I say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We’re going to be fine.”
He sighs, leaning into me. “I hope Logan’s okay,” he says after a moment. “If he’s still at the café, he probably won’t be able to get a taxi either.”
“He’s closing up today?” I ask.
Carter nods against my shoulder. “Yeah. At least he’ll have the café—there’s heat and food and that couch in the backroom.”
I smirk. “Unlike us, who are about to freeze to death in your Honda Civic?”
“Exactly,” he says, then pokes me in the ribs. “Wait, I thought you said we weren’t going to die.”
“We’re not,” I assure him, bringing his hand to my lips. “The tow truck will come, or Jason will rescue us, or the storm will let up and we’ll walk to safety. One way or another, we’re getting out of here.”
Carter looks at me with such raw hope and trust it knocks the breath out of me. “Promise?”
“Promise,” I say. After years of missed chances and wasted time, there’s no way I’m letting a snowstorm take this from us. We’ve got too much to live for now.
He smiles—that same soft, crooked smile from earlier—and leans into me more comfortably. We sit in silence for a while, watching the snow blur the windshield, listening to the wind howl outside. It’s cold, getting colder by the minute, but with Carter pressed against me, starting to doze, I can’t bring myself to care.
Then I spot them—headlights smearing through the fogged windshield, faint beyond the snow. I sit up straighter, careful not to jostle him. His breath is still warm on my neck. Could be another stranded car. Or—
The lights creep closer, high beams sweeping across the frosted windshield. Then I see it: the boom behind the cab.
Definitely a tow truck.
Relief crashes through me like a wave.
“Carter,” I whisper, giving his shoulder a gentle shake.
He stirs, blinking up at me, voice rough with sleep. “What?”
“Hey,” I murmur, grinning. “Looks like we’re not going to die after all.”
CHAPTER 5. Carter
I wake up to gray light filtering through unfamiliar curtains, momentarily confused—until I remember we’re at Jason’s. My phone says 8:13 AM and shows one new message from Thomas, sent at 1:46 AM:
Thomas:Can’t sleep. Thinking of sneaking into your room, even if Jason’s going to kill me.
I press the phone to my chest and grin at the ceiling like a lovesick idiot.
After years of being down bad with no hope, I’m finally allowed to feel like this.
Thomas Moore is my boyfriend.
Even in my head, the word sounds fake. Like a daydream I’m probably going to snap out of mid-toothbrush.
I reread our texts from last night, my cheeks heating as everything rushes back. After the tow truck finally showed up, we somehow made it to Jason’s birthday dinner—two hours late, with half-frozen hair and clothes that definitely still smelled like car sex no matter how much we tried to pretend otherwise.
We sat at opposite ends of the table, and every time our eyes met across the pasta and birthday candles, my brain just went offline.
God, I want this man.
