Page 70 of Snowed In

Snowdrifts & Secrets

A.M. Johnson

Chapter One

Shiloh

“Um, Gary…” I narrowed my eyes, attempting to see through the white wall of snow pummeling our windshield. “I’m pretty sure you were supposed to turn left back there.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his knuckles blanching as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I can’t see anything through this shit. I feel like we're driving into some type of time-warped oblivion.”

“And once it clears, we’ll have traveled back in time?”

“Or another planet.”

“I don’t know if this Corolla is equipped for interdimensional space travel. It doesn’t even have a sunroof.”

“Jesus, you’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Hmm… yet you still love me,” I teased, but my heart ached a little as he rolled his eyes.

“You fucking wish.” God, did I ever. “But if you could focus on that map in your lap instead of the car’s ability to make it toAlderaan, that’d be great.”

“Alderaan? I’d preferMiddle Earth.Thank you very much.”

“Shi… This isn’t the time for your fandom?—”

“The Lord of the Ringswill forever be superior toStar Wars, and didn'tAlderaanget blown up?”

“Oh my God, just tell me where the hell we are before we slide off the road and die.” He exhaled, his voice a little shaky, his lips parting into a small smile as he reached across the console and squeezed my thigh. “I’m sorry. My anxiety is a little amped up. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“No, I’m sorry. I get nervous and start rambling.” I exhaled, the heat of his hand too perfect, a distraction I didn’t think I’d ever get used to.

Gary had always been too generous with his affections. Little touches here and there, and goofy hugs that swallowed you whole miraculously when you needed them most. He was smiles and eye contact that lingered and had often made me wonder... maybe he’d seen through me this time. Maybe he wanted me too. His behavior had been confusing when we’d first met a little over two years ago. He’d started at The End, this bookstore I’d worked at in Atlanta, and I’d thought after a few weeks of him being there that he might’ve been into me. I’d realized pretty quickly that Gary was just that way. He was an extrovert to my painfully sad introversion. He was outgoing and charming, and unfortunately for me, incredibly straight. I ended up doing what all guys did when they started to fall for their best friends. I bottled that shit up and shelved it somewhere dark and dusty never to be thought of again. But I’d never been great at mental shelving or organization of anything, for that matter. The laundry on my bedroom floor back home was evidence enough, but with Gary, it was impossible to totally suppress the love I had for him.

He was my perfect guy.

Smart.

Funny.

Kind.

Blue eyes.

Dark hair.

And did I mention the tattoos?

I could forgive him for thinking dwarves were better than elves, and for even likingStar Wars, but the head games I played with myself were futile. He wasn’t into men, and that fact was a constant reminder I had on a loop inside my brain. Especially in times like this, when his hand was still on my thigh.

I checked my phone again for service in an attempt to ignore the weight of his palm. Nada. Fumbling with the map we’d picked up at our last stop, I said, “We should have turned onto the 202. We could circle back and get on the interstate again?”

He lifted his hand and I internally sighed. “I hate tolls.”

“Tolls or a wintery death on the side of the road in no one knows where New Hampshire…” I waved my hands like a moving scale. “Tough choice.”

“If I recall correctly, driving to Portland was your idea,” he reminded me with his lopsided, smug, D&D Dungeon Master, I just trapped you in a difficult, no-win situation, signature smile. “The Hobbits will be there, you said,all four of them, you said.”

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