Naughty Nicky (Naughty List)

1. Penelope

1

PENELOPE

W hy did I decide to do this? I mean I know I couldn’t say no to little old Mrs. Perez, but there is a goddamn blizzard outside. This woman can’t need her macarons that badly. She could survive two days without them. But no, because I am oh so nice, I decided to hand deliver her regular weekly order to her since she couldn’t pick them up.

And it’s no wonder she couldn’t pick them up. There is a freaking blizzard out here.

Okay, it’s more of just a snowstorm, but it’s getting heavier by the minute, and pretty soon it will be white-out conditions.

And again, this wouldn’t be so terrible if the woman lived in town.

But no.

She lives on the outskirts of town, off the main road that leads to Silverton, Colorado, not in the small eight-block radius of my hometown of Ouray.

My hometown. Two words I never thought I would ever mutter again in reference to where I live. I spent the last two years of my life living . Exploring the country and the world, getting my feet in the sand, standing on the biggest mountain peaks. But I was doing it all with the guy I thought was the love of my life. Turns out he was just a blip in my timeline.

But I can’t even think about that as I try to see through the snowfall that is getting heavier as I drive. The windshield wipers of my 2012 FJ squeal across the windshield as they fight against the snow.

I don’t even know why I volunteered to do this. Probably because I didn’t. I was volun-told to. Like it was life or death to keep my job at the local bakery in town.

Which in my parents’ eyes, it is.

Let’s just say I might have a little bit of debt from deciding to travel the world for two years thinking I could make it as an influencer. Turns out when you don’t make it, you still have bills to pay.

And that little bit of debt, which is more like a lotta bit of debt, means I cannot lose my boring ass job at the bakery if I ever want to travel and see the world again.

I let out an exasperated sigh, my lips vibrating at the movement as I come to a stop at the entrance to the highway. Luckily these roads look like a plow just came through so it shouldn’t be too terrible getting to Mrs. Perez’s house. Hopefully.

I turn onto the highway and drive at a snail’s pace. I hate driving in the snow, yet another reason why I question why I came back to live in my hometown. Then I remember that I am living rent-free under my parents’ roof, and that is the reason why.

I’m twenty-two. I should be living in my own cute apartment somewhere exciting like Seattle or New York City with houseplants and vintage furniture and maybe a cat. Not in the house I grew up in with its grandiose views of the mountains.

I shake the thoughts from my head before I get too depressed over my situation and concentrate on the road in front of me. It’s only two short miles to the exit I need to take, and I pray to God that street is plowed.

I turn off the exit onto the road that leads to my destination, and fuck me, it’s not plowed. There are a good three inches of snow to drive through on these roads. Which isn’t terrible, but have I mentioned I don’t just hate driving in the snow, but I also suck at it. The second I feel like I am about to hit some ice, I usually slam on the brakes which is the worst thing you can do when you hit ice.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself, like I learned from the yoga classes I took on the beach in Bali.

Bali. Man, how I wish I was there right now.

Come on, Pen, focus.

I shake the thought of crystal blue water and white sand beaches, vibrant green palms and happy people and get back to the task at hand.

I creep onto the road at a whopping five miles an hour. It might take me forever to get to Mrs. Perez’s house, but at least I’ll make it there at this pace and not spin out or land in a ditch.

I white knuckle the steering wheel as I increase my speed to ten miles per hour. I start to feel confident in myself and my driving. I may piss off a few drivers who want to get around me, but hey, I am making it to this house in one piece.

I glance over at the two boxes of macarons on the seat beside me. “You guys are really putting your faith in me.”

I roll my eyes at myself. Great, now I am talking to a batch of cookies in my panic-induced state.

I focus back on the road and pick up my speed a bit as I get more comfortable driving on the snow-covered road. I glance at my GPS, and it says I am only ten minutes away from my destination.

“I can do this.” I give myself the words of encouragement I need as I try not to think about how after I make it Mrs. Perez’s, I’m going to need to turn back around and head back to town in order to get home.

Baby steps, Pen. You got this.

I take another calming breath and loosen my grip on the steering wheel a bit as I press a little harder on the gas.

And then everything happens all at once. I don’t even know what is happening.

I see a blur of black fur out the left of my window and then it’s suddenly running right in front of me.

I panic.

And I hit the brakes. Hard.

My car starts to fishtail as I try to correct the spin, but it’s no use. I am going to die.

I scream as I let go of the wheel just as my car starts to slide off the embankment to the right of me, and I plunge right into a large pile of snow.

The black blur of fur I saw earlier is stopped in front of the ridge of snow, and I curse at the bear before it runs off.

I lean my head against the headrest and close my eyes, holding back tears. I’m an adult, I don’t need to cry over this.

What would my big brother do? I ask myself.

He would try to get out of this mess himself. He is the reliable one in the family.

I open my eyes and look around. I’m thankful the airbags didn’t go off, meaning my car is still drivable. I shift the gear into reverse and hit the gas, but nothing happens. My tires just spin.

Shit.

Maybe if I try moving forward and then reversing it will work better.

So I do just that, except all that does is drive me deeper into the snowbank.

Call someone, you dummy!

I swear it’s like a lightbulb just blew up in my head when I think of that.

Duh, this is why cell phones exist!

I grab my phone out of the holder it’s in and go to dial my dad just to realize I have zero service.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Am I being punished for something I don’t know I did? Why do I have no service? Why am I stuck in a snowbank right now with two boxes of macarons in the seat next to me? What did I do to deserve this?

I contemplate getting out of the car, but what am I going to do? Use my weak muscles to push my FJ out of the snow? Hell no. And I am not walking the three miles it is to Mrs. Perez’s house, not as the snow begins to fall heavier and thicker, coating the windshield in a heavy dusting as the wipers work to keep it clean. Not to mention I am wearing flip-flops. Let’s just say even in the frigid thirty-degree temperatures I cannot get my mind out of Bali so I stick to flip-flops year round. Another mistake I won’t make again.

I look over at the macarons and find them still sitting neatly buckled into the seat like I left them. At least I have food to survive the next however many hours I am left out here alone in the woods. What happens when the sun starts to set soon? Panic sets in as I look down at the gas gauge hoping I was smart enough sometime this week and filled her up. But of course not, I live life on the edge, and she is sitting at just under a quarter of a tank.

Oh my god, I am going to die out here.

There is no doubt in my mind that I am going to be found on the side of the road tomorrow, frozen solid clutching a box of macarons to my chest.

So much for my dreams.

I snort. I don’t even know what dreams I have anymore. Since my last dream failed, I’ve come to the conclusion dreams are stupid.

Now I know I am panicking as I start to dive into depression. This isn’t me. I’m usually the happy-go-lucky-girl. But the more time I spend in Ouray, the more I feel less like me and more like a shadow of myself.

I stare at my phone for nearly an hour, hoping that I’ll miraculously get service, but it’s no use. I am one hundred percent stranded out here. And not even one car has gone by in the last hour. Maybe because people actually paid attention to the weather and realized this storm was turning worse than predicted. I can’t even see out my windows anymore as the snow piles up. I gave up on my windshield wipers a long time ago.

The sun begins to set, and my stomach starts to growl. When was the last time I ate? Breakfast this morning? I kick myself for only shoving an apple down my throat and calling it a meal. I look over at my companions, the cookies in the boxes, and sigh.

I unbuckle the boxes of macarons and open one up looking at the array of purple, yellow, and pink cookies. I don’t even like macarons, but this may be my last meal on this earth. I may as well learn to like them.

I shove one in my mouth and wince at the overly sweet cookie. I swallow it down, choking on it as it makes its way down my throat. I reach for my water and swallow down nearly all of it until I realize I should be rationing it. Although if I am going to die out here, what does it even matter?

I go to shove another cookie in my mouth to cure the ache in my hungry belly when a knock on my window has me jumping out of my seat, causing the box of macarons to go flying everywhere.

I curse as I brush cookie crumbs off me and wonder whether I should roll my window down. Is whoever is on the other side, who I can barely make out through the snow sticking to my window, here to kill me or help me? Maybe I have listened to one too many true crime podcasts.

Despite my gut telling me this is a horrible decision, I hit the button on the door to roll my window down.

I come face to face with a man dressed in a Santa suit, and once again the thought of death flashes across my mind.

“You okay?”

I take the time to study the man and realize it’s not some old man with a beer belly in a Santa outfit but someone else entirely. Someone who is only a few years older than me, with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. A jaw that looks like it was cut from stone with the slightest bit of a five o’clock shadow on it. Full lips that are begging to be kissed. Someone who I wouldn’t forget no matter how much time has passed.

My brother’s best friend, Nick Snow.

I blink a few times as memories flash through my mind. Years of growing up with the biggest crush on my older brother’s best friend. All the times I would sit in my room on my bed and watch out the front window as they played basketball in the driveway. Or when they would sit in the basement playing video games with their other friends. I would pretend to be reading in the corner, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Nick Snow.

And who couldn’t? He was dreamy as fuck. Like in those eighties rom-coms, he just glowed like they did in those movies. He was lean and muscular back in high school, and from what I can tell from the muscles in his arms protruding from the Santa suit, much hasn’t changed. At least in appearance.

And he probably doesn’t even remember me. Even if he did, he would just think I’m some stupid little girl he could make fun of like he and my brother used to do back then.

I let out the breath I was holding and then look back up at him.

“You okay?” he asks again.

I swallow hard and bite down on my lip before nodding my head in an answer.

“Umm yeah.”

“I saw your taillights through the snow. Lucky you had them on, or I might not have seen you. It’s getting bad out here.”

I just nod, not sure what else to say. Disappointment hitting my chest when I realize he doesn’t recognize me. And why would he? I was just the girl he made fun of for years. And I haven’t seen him in six years. How would he recognize me? Not that I’ve changed much.

“I would say we can call you a tow truck but not sure one will make it out here with how hard it’s dumping.”

I nod again as I only half listen to his words. “I can wait until one comes.”

I finally pay attention to him when he snorts and laughs. “I don’t think you were listening to me at all. There is no way a tow will be out here. Is there someone we can call to come get you?”

“I have no service.”

Nick laughs again. “You really weren’t paying attention to me at all, were you, Pen?”

My eyes snap to his when he says my name.

“I said you should come to my house and use the phone. Although I don’t recommend anyone driving in this weather. I am glad I made it back when I did.”

“Your house?” I gulp.

Nick nods at me. “Yeah, I live just up the road.”

“You remember me?” I ask him stupidly.

A smile breaks across his face, and he laughs again. A sound that sends goose bumps down my arms. “I grew up with you Penelope. I saw you get your diapers changed. You chased me and Wesley around for years. Kinda hard to forget you.”

I give him a weak smile as my childhood crush threatens to return with the slight flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

“Now how about for both our sakes, you get out of this car and come with me, so you at least have somewhere warm to be until this storm clears up.”

I nod at him, not sure what fantasy this is of mine coming to life. But I am not going to let myself think twice about it.

“You can bring the cookies too.”

I feel my cheeks flame at that. Knowing that I am completely covered in macarons right now.

I grab the other box of cookies and open my door just as Nick moves out of the way.

I didn’t realize how much more it snowed and curse myself for wearing flip-flops again.

Nick looks down at my feet as I drop into the nearly six inches of snow.

“Flip-flops? Didn’t you know a storm was coming?”

I don’t even have time to answer him before I am suddenly being lifted from my feet and carried bridal style to the truck parked on the road beside me.