Page 103

The concert ended just after ten, and it was snowing hard as they left the city and headed back to Jerry’s.

Laney was humming along to Christmas music, her hand stuck out the window like she was trying to catch snowflakes with her palm.

“Get your hand back in here before you get frostbite!” Shane barked.

“Okay, dad,” she said with an eyeroll, cranking the handle and rolling the window back up.

“Don’t call me dad,” he said sourly.

“Okay, daddy.”

He elbowed her ribs, but she caught his arm and wrapped her hands around his forearm, pulling his hand to her mouth and sucking on his joint, trying and failing to blow a smoke ring at the ceiling of the truck.

He chuckled. “Here,” he said, taking it back and blowing a perfect O.

“Is there anything you can’t do,” she grumbled.

“Read?” he offered.

“Right. You’re such a dummy,” she said, her lips quirking in a grin. He smiled affectionately at her and blew a smoke ring in her face.

As the clock ticked closer to 11:00, the weather worsened.

“It’s getting pretty squirrelly,” Shane muttered. “I should have bought snow tires…”

“Instead of concert tickets?”

“Shut up,” he said, poking her. But he frowned as the snow thickened on the roads, blurring the lanes. The visibility was shit, and they were close to whiteout conditions.

“Maybe we should stay at your house tonight,” he said. “I don’t know about the drive to Jerry’s… the backroads are bound to be worse than this…”

“Okay,” Laney’s eyes twinkled, a mischievous grin on her face. “We won’t have to be quiet, for once.”

“You’re never quiet anyway,” Shane grumbled. “I swear we’re traumatizing your brother.”

“And Jerry.”

“Jerry’s hearing is going. And I’m sure he’s glad of it.”

“It’s not my fault,” Laney whined. “It’s that thing you do with your tongue…”

“My tongue was definitely not between your legs this morning, Laney, and you still woke up the whole damned neighbourhood.”

“Well that was that thing you do with your middle finger – ”

“The roads are very bad right now, babe, and I need to concentrate. So if you could stop talking about sex that would be fantastic.”

Laney reclined her seat, reaching between her legs and running her hands up and down her thighs.

“What are you doing,” he asked, his voice dark, fighting to keep his eyes on the road.

“You said to stop talking about sex…” she said, “so I’m showing you instead…”

“I swear to God Laney, you’re going to get us fucking killed.”

She sighed reluctantly and straightened her seat, putting her hand over his on the gear shifter.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “You’re such a spoilsport. Nobody is dying today.”