Page 66 of Rear View
“In good conscience, I must warn you against leaving in this weather. It’s too dangerous.”
My pulse thrashed in my ears while the panic moved in.
Another buzz of my phone filled the otherwise awkward silence. I didn’t want to look, but if it washim, I needed to know. Was he watching? Was he out there? Was he—
Xavier’s name filled the screen, along with a text.
Xavier: What would you say if I told you I’m here?
Breath exploding from my lungs, my brows dropped so low, it was a wonder I could see.
Me: What?
Please be real.Please!
Xavier: Out front when you’re ready.
My head snapped up. Out front? There was no way he’d made it. The roads weren’t even plowed. Impassable. But this was Xavier. If anyone could—orwould—it was him.
Hands shaking, I grabbed my coat and bag from the back of my chair and threw them on.
Barlowe frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
He rose. “It’s not safe out there, Ryah,” he said, his tone stern.
I fumbled as I slid on my hat and secured my gloves. Xavier was there. As soon as I saw him, I’d be safe. He was there. “I’ll be alright.”
Bolting for the door, I burst into the hall. Barlowe’s voice carried after me, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I needed air. I needed Xavier.
Darting around the corner, I almost crashed headlong into the security guard, Stan. I jolted, my boots screeching across the floor.What the hell?
His head drew back, his stare narrowing to a point. “Miss Nolan, where are you—”
My body was rigid, I darted around him and made for the main exit, careening outside. A snowmobile waited, engine running, twenty steps away.
Snow lashed across the path, clawing at my exposed skin as Xavier rose from the machine’s seat and faced me. He wore a head-to-toe black snowsuit with his dark helmet and stood backlit by the nearby lamppost. I’d never seen a more perfect sight.
He flicked that tinted visor up and winked.
My mouth parted and a sob broke from my chest. Tears of unadulterated relief seared the backs of my eyes as I made my way to him, sinking deep to my knees with every panicked step. He closed the gap between us, his long legs moving through the snow like it wasn’t an obstacle. It crunched loudly under his boots.
I threw myself at him, looping my arms around his neck as I squeezed hard, voice quavering when I said, “You’re here.”
His grip locked around me. “Told you I’d come.”
Another sob tore free, and those tears fell.
“Hey.” He cinched his hold tighter, and he lifted, hooking my legs around him as his hand tracked over my back and he effortlessly carried me toward his machine. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
I shook as I clung to him, breathing in his leather-and-gas-engine scent. He was there. The anxiety that had crashed my shore receded. “Nothing.” I sniffled and shook my head, pressing it to his chest. “I just want to go home.”
When he reached the snowmobile, he set me down and crouched before me, those arctic eyes shifting between my own. Tracking his gloved thumb over my cheek, he stole my tears. “You sure you’re good?”
I am now.My breath hitched. Lord only knew what he saw, how ridiculous I looked, crying over nothing. I needed to explain, offer some truth to save what little face I had. “I was just scared.” I sniffed again. “But you’re here.”
He held my gaze for several heart-stopping seconds more. “I’m here.”
