Chapter 15
Alexis
The lunch crowd is thinner than usual.
Not empty. Just quieter. People keep checking their phones, looking out the windows like they’re expecting something to change if they stare long enough, like everyone feels it coming.
Outside, the sky has that heavy, low-hanging gray that presses down on everything, the kind that swallows light instead of reflecting it.
Snow falls thick and steady, the wind starting to push it sideways now, streaking across the glass in restless patterns that make it hard to focus on anything else for too long.
I’m wiping down the bar when the front door opens, letting in a rush of icy air as Cas steps inside, snow clinging to his shoulders and hair, his expression tight, eyes scanning the room before landing on Dex.
“Hey,” he says, but there’s something off in it, quieter than usual, edged with concern.
That alone makes the room shift.
Dex straightens immediately from where he’s leaning against the counter, something in his posture sharpening. “What’s going on?”
Cas brushes snow off his shoulders as he steps further inside, boots leaving wet, melting prints across the floor. “They’re closing the highway.”
Stephen freezes halfway across the room. “What?”
“Both directions,” Cas says. “Plows can’t keep up. Wind’s picking up and visibility’s getting worse outside town.”
A gust rattles the windows as if to prove his point, the glass trembling faintly in its frame.
Dex moves toward them, his attention fixed on the storm like he can read it, like he can measure just how bad it’s about to get.
“How long?”
“No idea,” Cas says. “School’s already canceled for tomorrow. Town council wants businesses shut down early. Sheriff’s office is telling people to get home and stay there.”
The bar goes quieter, conversations fading into low murmurs that don’t quite hide the tension settling in.
“For how long?” Stephen asks.
Cas shakes his head. “No one knows yet.”
Something tightens in my chest at that, a slow, creeping pressure that has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with what it means.
Dex runs a hand over the back of his neck once, then looks around the room, making a decision before anyone else can.
“We close.”
No hesitation.
Stephen nods immediately. “I’ll start shutting things down.”
Cas gives a short nod. “Good call. Road up toward the ranch is already drifting. Tell people to head out sooner rather than later.”
“I will.”
Cas heads back out into the storm, the door closing behind him, the wind howling faintly even after it shuts, like it’s trying to get back in.
For the next twenty minutes, the bar empties faster than I’ve ever seen it.
People finish drinks, pull on coats, throw down cash like they don’t want to linger long enough to get stuck, voices tighter, movements quicker, everyone suddenly aware of the time, of the weather, of the way the world outside is shifting into something less predictable.
Stephen grabs his jacket last. “You heading up?” he asks Dex.
“Yeah.”
Stephen looks at me. “You good getting home?”
“I live upstairs,” I say.
“Right.” He smiles. “Stay warm.” Then he’s gone.
The door closes, and just like that, the bar is quiet.
Not empty quiet.
Different quiet.
The kind that settles when the whole town disappears indoors at once, when the outside world gets too loud and everything inside goes still in response.
The wind presses harder now, a low, constant sound against the building, the storm no longer something in the distance but something right on top of us.
I lift the last chair onto the table, my gaze drifting to the windows again, to the way the snow blurs everything beyond them, swallowing the road, the buildings, the familiar edges of town until it all looks the same.
My heart tightens at the thought of not being able to reach Mason if something happens.
And before I can stop myself, I pull out my phone and call my mom.
It rings.
And rings.
My chest tightens while I wait, listening to it like maybe this time she’ll pick up, like maybe she’ll just say my name and sound like herself again.
Voicemail.
Of course.
I don’t leave one.
I swallow hard, staring at the screen for a second longer before hanging up.
Part of me wants to call again.
The other part already knows how that ends.
I slip my phone back into my pocket, pushing the worry down where it won’t slow me down.
And the thought of being stuck in an apartment with Dex…
That’s different.
Scary. Not in a he’ll kill me kind of way.
In a I don’t trust my heart or my body around him kind of way.
Because of yesterday, the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way my body reacted like it didn’t get a say in the matter…
That hasn’t gone away.
If anything, being trapped here with him makes it louder.
Closer.
Harder to ignore.
I take out my phone and shoot Mason a text.
Me: you ok? get inside if you’re not already
Mason: relax rocket, I’m inside. campus shut everything down, we’re basically snow prisoners
Me: not funny. stay inside. seriously
Mason : yes ma’am. you safe? heat working?
Me: I’m good. don’t worry about me, I’ve got it handled
Mason: sure you do. text me later so I know you didn’t freeze to death
Me: idiot. go watch your movie
Mason: love you too
I stare at the screen for a second longer before locking it, exhaling slowly.
“I think I’ll try to drive out to campus and stay with Mason,” I say, turning toward Dex.
He’s closer than I expected.
His eyes widen. “Are you out of your mind, Tinker?”
I square my shoulders. “I’m a grown woman.”
“You are,” he says, unimpressed, “but your car’s tires aren’t made for this. You’ll end up stranded in the middle of nowhere freezing to death.”
His voice is calm, but there’s no room for argument in it, no hesitation, like he’s already decided how this ends.
Like he’s already picturing it.
And I hate how sure he sounds.
I grind my teeth, the frustration rising fast, sharp.
Then I sigh.
Because he’s right.
And I hate that he’s right.
“Alright,” I mutter. “Guess we’re stuck together for God knows how long.”
The words feel heavier than they should.
Loaded.
I turn toward the stairs.
“Could be worse,” he says behind me.
I glance back. “Oh yeah? How?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, the kind that makes something in my stomach tighten in a way that has nothing to do with fear.
“You could still be living in that car of yours.”
A shiver runs through me before I can stop it, the memory hitting harder than I expect.
I turn back to the stairs.
He’s right.
As much as he gets on my nerves, in all the worst ways and the ones I don’t want to think about too closely, he saved me.
Gave me somewhere to stay.
Gave me… more than that.
“Dex?” I call as I step into the apartment.
Marvel immediately pads over, rubbing against my legs, purring like nothing in the world is wrong. I pick him up, burying my face briefly in his fur, grounding myself in something soft, something simple.
“What, Tinker?” Dex asks from behind me, moving past me toward the TV like this is normal, like being snowed in together doesn’t change anything.
He flips it on, the local news already mid-broadcast, his attention shifting between the screen and everything else in the room, like he’s tracking more than he’s letting on.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For helping me.”
My voice comes out smaller than I expect.
He pauses.
Turns.
Just… looks at me.
Like he’s actually considering it, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.
Then he gives a single nod.
We both turn toward the TV.
“…residents are advised to remain indoors,” the reporter says. “Authorities warn that road conditions are rapidly deteriorating, with several closures already in effect. The storm is expected to intensify over the next several days, and a full shutdown is possible if conditions worsen…”
Outside, the wind howls louder now, snow hitting the windows in sharp bursts, the world beyond them almost completely gone.
Inside…
it’s just us.
And nowhere else to go.