Page 13 of Playing Dirty
He gave a soft sigh and opened the door. “Come on. You’re riding with me.”
“I can wait for roadside,” I offered, even though we both knew I was bluffing.
He looked up at the sky. Snow was swirling sideways now. “You want to sit here alone and freeze out of pride, or you wanna get home before this turns ugly?”
I hesitated for half a second. But the cold was creeping up my spine, and I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.
“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing my purse and slamming the door a little harder than necessary.
He didn’t say anything—just opened the passenger side of his truck for me, like he knew I’d cave eventually. Like he always had.
The heater in Rhett’s truck blew steady warmth, but it didn’t reach the knot in my stomach. Outside, the snow thickened, swirling like ash over the windshield as the wipers thumped a slow rhythm. We hadn’t said a word since I climbed in.
He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift like he wasn’t in any kind of hurry. Like this wasn’t strange. Like it was normal for him to be driving me back to Matt’s place through a snowstorm, in the dark, on slick country roads.
I kept my eyes on the blur of pine trees outside the window.
“Does Matt know you’re out here alone tonight?” Rhett asked finally, voice casual but quiet.
“No,” I muttered.
“Why the hell not?” Rhett turned his eyes from the road to look me in the eyes.
I swallowed. “He would’ve if the storm had been in the forecast when he left. It wasn’t.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just adjusted the heat and kept his eyes on the road.
“He walked me through everything when I moved in,” I added. “How to start the backup generator. Where the flashlights are. That kind of stuff.”
Rhett nodded once. “Still. Long way to leave someone sittin’, storm or not.”
I hated how that landed. Not sharp. Just… honest.
“He’s got a corporate meeting in Tucson,” I said. “He didn’t plan this.”
“Oh. I see.” He glanced at me. “You expectin’ him back anytime soon?”
I hesitated. “Yes, of course. He’s only supposed to be gone for three days.”
His jaw flexed like he was chewing on words he wouldn’t say.
I leaned my head against the cold window. “You ever think maybe I’m doing the best I can?”
“All the time, Cal.” His voice was low. “Just wonder when you’ll let someone do the same for you.”
That cracked something in my chest.
I didn’t reply. Neither did he.
The rest of the drive passed in silence, but the air between us was full of things we weren’t saying.
And I wasn’t sure anymore if that made it safer… or worse.
The blast of cold air followed us inside, curling around my legs as I shut the door behind Rhett. I hovered by the thermostat, twisting the dial up even though I doubted the furnace had much left to give. The heat stuttered on with a metallic sigh, like the place was waking up begrudgingly.
Rhett stood in the middle of the room, his hat in his hands, snowflakes still melting across his shoulders. I tried not to stare—but he looked too damn solid. Too familiar. Like every fantasy of the perfect guy just showed up at my door in a flannel jacket and muddy boots.
“You sure you’ll be okay out here?” he asked.
