Frosted Antlers (Reindeer Mate for Christmas #5)

Chapter 1 Tyler

TYLER

There are some things you can only say aloud when you’re alone in a car with the radio volume set to absurd levels.

For example, “I’m going to kill my boss” is not a phrase to blurt out over brunch at your mother’s house, but if you scream it at the dashboard of a Ford Focus on a deserted stretch of highway, no harm done.

“I wish I had someone waiting for me at home” was something else I’d said to myself more than once on a solo drive, but that was more of a sad whisper. Even my car didn’t want to hear how pathetic I was.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone in my family that I had never brought anyone home for the holidays, but we danced around the topic as if it was taboo.

My mom liked to casually remind me that twenty-six was the perfect age to settle down, as if I were actively avoiding a relationship.

I wasn’t. I wanted to settle down as much as she wanted me to, but I couldn’t just manifest a man from thin air.

Trust, I’d tried.

But that kind of musing helped distract me through the long drive to my sister’s place so I could spend Christmas with my family.

I was supposed to be there an hour ago, just in time for my favorite part of Christmas Eve.

Hot cocoa and cartoons with my niece and nephew.

We liked to snuggle up under the Christmas tree and predict what all the gifts were.

But I would be lucky if I made it home in time to put out milk and cookies for Santa because I wasn’t able to leave work early the way I should have.

Apparently, an “urgent, last-minute payroll correction” request from my supervisor was more important than spending the holiday with my family…

even after everyone else headed out early to be with theirs.

My boss had wished me a merry Christmas with no actual sincerity in his voice when I finally dashed out the door just before six PM.

Now, my beloved Focus was vibrating just enough to make me think I’d lost a tire somewhere along the road, and my wipers were losing their battle against the slush. But I didn’t have time to slow down or stop to investigate the strange sounds.

I just turned up the Christmas carols and hoped for the best.

Gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as my tires slid on some ice, I braced myself for impact. I wasn’t far from civilization, but I was far enough that if anything happened, I’d probably freeze to death long before anyone found me.

The ironic thing was that the drive was rote for me. I’d done it a million times in all weather conditions. Usually, I turned up the music and lost myself in sad love songs until I got back into the burbs and could count all the inflatable Santas, snowmen, and reindeer along the way.

Tonight, the world was so buried in powder, I wouldn’t even be able to spot the hideous light-up polar bear at the corner of Elm as I sped past it. That was kinda depressing, actually.

The expanse of highway I was on was absent of any other vehicles, giving a true murder-forest vibe that I didn’t love. And as the snow got deeper by the minute, I realized I might have overestimated my likelihood of making it to Mandy’s tonight.

The radio station lost signal and went staticky, so I turned it off altogether and listened to the soft patter of wet snow hitting the car roof.

It would have been a good time for manifesting if I believed in that kind of thing.

It was no secret that my family wanted me to find a nice alpha to sweep me off my feet, settle down, and pump out grandbabies for my mother’s Christmas card.

Instead, I was the silly uncle who made killer sugar cookies and laughed too loud at his own jokes.

Most of the time, that was fine. I liked being the fun uncle who would roll around on the floor with Legos or race cars.

I didn’t even mind always being expected to have batteries and scissors for opening presents.

I filled a role in my family that suited us well enough.

And since I had no real prospects for anything romantic, it was easy to focus on making the holidays special for everyone else.

Which I was utterly failing at this year.

Mandy would have figured out I was gonna be late, but I still felt like I was disappointing everybody. As usual.

It was moments like that when I wished I did have some kind of romantic prospects in my future.

Just someone to be my cheerleader and tell me it was okay to be late for dinner.

Everyone else had a support system that was always on their side, and I was a bit envious of that.

It wasn’t that I needed to have a mate for companionship, but it would have been nice.

Really nice.

I flicked my eyes up to the rearview mirror to see if anyone had come up behind me, but all I could see was a wall of white flurries.

The woods were getting thicker, and I couldn’t help picturing packs of wild animals watching from their dens, just waiting for some poor sucker like me to spin off the road and become their Christmas feast.

It was possible I stared at the shadows behind the trees for a little too long, because my poor little Focus lost traction when the rear wheels hit a patch of ice, and for a split second, the world moved in slow motion as I spun off the road, with only headlights illuminating the desolate landscape before I came to a crunching stop off the shoulder.

And then there was silence.

The airbag didn’t deploy, but I banged my head against the side window and could feel the trickle of blood on my temple. It wasn’t serious, so I did a quick check of all my extremities. Hands, check. Feet, wiggled. Face, a little bloodied but still pretty.

Once I knew I wasn’t on the verge of death, the panic started to creep in.

I slumped forward with my hands still glued to the wheel, trying to remember the first step of what to do when you crashed your car in a snowstorm. And I was drawing a blank.

My breath was coming in short little bursts, fogging up the windshield and making me feel even more isolated and alone than I already was. The engine was dead, so I tried to start it up so I could defrost the windows, but no luck.

I typed out a text to my sister anyway, hoping it would get through. I’m OK but I’ll be late. Need a tow.

The little spinning wheel on my screen didn’t change, and after about thirty seconds of staring at it, the phone gave up and died too.

I had to hope my engine and phone weren’t sending me some kind of message of what was next for me.

My head flopped back against the seat and sighed. So much for a cozy Christmas Eve with my family. I’d be lucky to survive the night with all my fingers and toes.

What had felt dark but bright when I had headlights was now just dark and ominous.

The snow that had felt like picturesque flurries could now be categorized as murderous onslaught.

There was no way I could get out and walk anywhere, so until someone came by and saw my car, I was at the mercy of the elements.

I released my seatbelt and reached into the backseat to grab my emergency blanket.

I’d started carrying it after reading about a family driving into a ditch during a snow storm and freezing to death.

Basically, the prequel to my life. I wrapped it around my shoulders and sat there, listening to the heavy silence of the forest as my breath filled the car with steamy clouds.

My mind conjured up images of my niece and nephew, waiting for me at home. My sister would call me a few times, and when I didn’t answer, she’d panic. Basically, I’d ruined Christmas for the entire family.

I slumped deeper into the seat and watched as the white walls of the weather closed in on me, and I prepared myself for a long, lonely night.