“I’m fine,” he said. He was from Colorado. Born and raised. He’d driven over a decade through winter conditions.
“The weather shows it’s only gonna get worse later,” she said as she studied her phone.
“And that’s why we’re trying to get there before it gets worse.” He leaned forward, his vision focused and determined and not at all interested in Isabella’s warnings.
“We still have a few more hours at least. The storm should be at its worst soon, but it’s supposed to be clear in the morning. Do you think it might be wise to find a hotel and stop for the night? We can leave early in the morning, once the storm has cleared and it’s light out.” Her tone was laced with condescension.
The last thing Leo wanted to do was spend any more time with Isabella than he had to, never mind staying the night with her at a hotel.
“We’re not stopping.”
“But Leo—”
He groaned—loudly. “I live in Colorado. I’ve always lived in Colorado. I’ve been driving in the snow since before I could make a flip shot.” Okay, so that was complete bullshit. He’d been playing hockey since he was three, and he’d learned how to do a flip shot when he was six. But it sounded good, so he went with it.
“This isn’t just a little snow. This is ice. And a snowstorm. If you could just take your egotistical head out of your butt for one second—”
“Me? Egotistical?” His voice went up an octave. She had some nerve, firing off accusations like that. “Says the stuck-up New Yorker who’s too good for Colorado.”
“Stuck up?” She shrieked when the car fishtailed.
Leo ignored Isabella’s advice of stopping for the night, along with her name-calling and continued driving, though he did ease off the accelerator. If they stopped now, they’d get caught in the worst part of the storm. But if they kept going, they could stay ahead of it, getting them home around midnight.
Isabella turned the volume all the way down on the radio and slid her phone between her legs so that she had both hands free to grip the oh-shit handle and the console. The only sounds heard in the car were the wipers swishing against the windshield, and Isabella’s accelerated breathing.
Leo tried to maintain focus on the road but hearing her breathing like that was insanely distracting. It made his mind travel back to a memory he hadn’t visited in so long it resembled a dream. His limbs tangled with Isabella’s. Their hot, naked flesh pressed so close. Her sweet breath panting in his ear.
It felt so real, yet so unreachable.
The car slipped, grazing against a patch of ice. Leo gripped the steering wheel, jerking it in the direction of the slide. But it was useless. The car fishtailed and spun them in a complete 360.
Isabella screamed, and Leo instinctively stretched his arm across her chest. She clutched the handle tighter, and her phone flew off her lap.
The car finally came to a full stop. Isabella breathed hard, her chest writhing against his arm.
“Izzy, are you okay?” His words exhaled on a rushed breath.
“I t-think so.”
His rib cage tightened. He felt like such a jerk.
“Are you?” she asked. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
They both glanced down at the same time. Leo’s arm was still awkwardly outstretched against her chest, his hand curved possessively around one breast. He reeled back, pushing his fingers through his hair.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
Isabella shifted in her seat. Cleared her throat. “Is the car…is the car okay?”
Leo glanced at the dash, at the lights and gauges, at the key dangling from the ignition and felt the rumbling of the car as it purred. He switched on the interior light before checking over both shoulders, spotting the luggage still intact in the back.
“I think so. I don’t think we hit anything. Just ice.”
The two of them gazed out the windshield in silence, except for the sound of his heart thumping loudly in his ears. The headlights shined through the snow giving them a view of a sheet of white. There was a complete absence of both sky and road.
Isabella unbuckled her seatbelt and fished around on the floor, eventually coming back up with her phone.
