Page 21 of Triple Play

“Do you want me to drive?”

I’m not surprised that he’s offering. Tension sits on my shoulders. My hands are practically strangling the wheel. “Lilac’s pretty specific in how she handles.”

And right now she’s handling like someone who’s trying out five-inch heels for the first time. My phone’s mounted on the dashboard with my navigation app displayed. We’re eating blue line between here and the rental. We just have to make it that far.

“Just seems like you might want someone to take over,” he says.

Some part of me wants to—to let another person be in charge for once. Another fiercer part wants to snap that I’ve been taking care of myself since I was eighteen years old and don’t need his help.

I swallow that down. Men like him don’t like girls like you. “I got this,” I say softly.

“What do you need to get there?” It’s not Blake who asks—it’s Felix, who’s been woken up from his nap. His voice is scratchy with sleep. I can practically hear his bedhead, and it feels…close, intimate, in the quiet dark of the car.

“Just let me take my time,” I say.

“Of course,” Blake murmurs. From the back Felix concurs. Practically the first thing they’ve agreed on all day.

That makes me breathe a little easier. Right. I have a dancer’s reflexes and an understanding of Lilac’s eccentricities. I’ve been on my own for more than six years. I can do this. I can do this.

It takes almost half an hour to go the mile and a half to the rental house. We creep along, my foot poised above the brake pedal, Lilac’s hazards telling other drivers—ones in hulking SUVs or with better tires—to speed past.

By the time we get there, my muscles are stiff. Sweat dots my brow. Finally, finally, I pull into the driveway—and Lilac slips.

Skids a little on the untreated driveway.

I pump the brakes. We could slide backward into the road, we could get clipped by a passing car, we could?—

Roll to a gentle stop a few feet in front of the garage door.

Fuck.

We made it.

For a second I just sit. Then I cut the engine, breathe for the first time for what feels like hours. Shake my fist at the snow still falling outside the car. “Hey, take that, ice.” I turn to Blake. “I got us here. Lilac got us here.”

Blake laughs. “Can’t forget about Lilac. She’s the real MVP.”

I pat the cracked leather of her dashboard. “Yeah, she is.” Relief fizzes my brain. A laugh works its way up my throat.

“You good?” Blake asks.

“Kiss me.”

He plants a gentle kiss on my cheek. That won’t do.

“I don’t get more than that?” I don’t wait for his answer before I lever myself over the center console and crawl into his lap. That’s better. Some things are easier to say without words.

Blake’s hands find my waist, the tense muscles of my lower back. “You’re all wound up.”

Fuck, am I. “Nothing like a little mortal danger to really put things in perspective.”

“Mortal danger?” But his eyes are shining with laughter.

I nod, fake seriously. “You never know with black ice.” I pick his hand up, place it on my chest, high up on my ribs against the thump of my heartbeat. “See, that’s adrenaline.”

“Just adrenaline?” Blake breathes.

“You tell me.” And lean in for a kiss.

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