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The intercom called her name before I could say anything else. The car was ready.

“Coming?”

It might have been one of the dumbest things I’d ever done, but I would do it anyway. And deep down, I felt that this decision could change everything.

“Lead the way.”

She did. And I followed.

FOUR

TRISHA

This was either goingto be the best idea I’d ever had or the worst. I didn’t really see a whole lot of room for anything in between.

When Blaze didn’t object to me driving, I knew he wasn’t some arrogant jerk going all alpha on me at some point, even though he’d gallantly rescued me at the airport.

Some say intuition is nonsense, but my dad taught me to trust my gut, especially with guys. Coupled with my experience moving alone cross-country for college at sixteen, I felt pretty good about gauging people.

We barely spoke as we drove out of the city. I needed to focus on navigating the unfamiliar, icy streets. Fortunately, the car had good snow tires. Once we reached the city limits and got onto the main highway heading west, I felt relaxed enough to ask Blaze to find us some music for our drive.

“What’s your poison?” he asked.

“Take a guess,” I challenged, flicking a glance his way. When he raised an eyebrow, I added, “It’s not like we don’t have the time.”

He smirked, a slow burn as he studied me with his gorgeous eyes. I felt my body warming, making me wonder what it would be like to literally be bare under his gaze. “I’m getting a strong bubblegum pop vibe from you,” he mused, “but there’s a twist there, isn’t there? People don’t peg you right, do they?”

Heat crept up my neck, and I kept my gaze locked on the frosty road. Was I that transparent, or was he some kind of savant?

He chuckled, nailing it. “Classic rock, huh?”

“You could say I’m genre-fluid,” I admitted, “but yeah, classic rock holds the crown.”

He grinned as he reached for the radio. “My college roommate was a major Dead Head.”

I snorted, “Total Van Halen junkie here.” He sifted through the stations, giving each a brief nod before moving on. “My dad was a grease monkey and the shop always blasted VH. He’d scoop me up, windows down, screaming ‘Panama’ as his life depended on it.”

His eyes flickered, “Tight with your old man?”

“Mom bailed at six months. Just me and Pops.”

“I’m sorry–”

I cut off his pity. “Dad’s a rock star in his own right. You? Family man or lone wolf?”

It seemed like the natural question to ask after his, but the moment it came out, I saw his expression tighten minutely, and I regretted my question. I tried telling him he didn’t need to respond, but he’d already started talking.

“My parents passed away when I was eleven. Car accident. My aunt raised my siblings and me after that.” He managed a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said sincerely, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm.

“Thank you.” He put a hand over mine but didn’t remove it right away, the heat from his skin warming mine. “And I’m sorry your mom left you.”

“One-half mile ahead, keep left.”

The car’s GPS voice had me jerking back my hand as if I’d just remembered that I was driving.

“Can you check the weather on your phone?” I asked. “We should probably keep an eye on it as we go.”