Chapter 34
WINTER brEAK
We hugged the coastline for most of the drive. The waves and mountains sandwich us on a half-empty highway. Everyone else had flown south for the winter. David and I agreed that going further north was better.
“I have to think of something horrible for your next dare. I refuse to continue being soft,” I said with my arm stretched outside the window, the cold air like pinpricks against my skin. David turned the heater to full blast because he knew I liked the windows down, despite the risk of hypothermia.
“Why not be nice?” David had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh. I kept glancing down at his grip as he applied the exact right amount of pressure. “You know, like I’ve been.”
“I’m way nicer than you’ll ever be.”
“State of delusion give you the keys to the place yet?” he asked. “Need help going over the lease agreement?”
“Only if you’re co-signing,” I said sweetly.
David chuckled and squeezed my thigh. He turned on his blinker for the next exit, pulling off onto an abandoned gas station parking lot. I frowned when he unbuckled his seatbelt. The car stayed on as he opened the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re switching.” He got out of the car before I could protest, coming to my side to open the door for me.
“We’re on vacation,” I said, not moving an inch. Unfortunately, I couldn’t cite my lack of a learner’s permit because I’d spent two hours at the DMV last week to get it.
David’s breath came out in small clouds, his cheeks splotched with red. Despite his thin sweater and gloveless hands, his smile was effortless, with patience firmly in place.
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t seize a learning opportunity,” he said. “Come on, you need to get used to driving in the snow. Now that we’re off the highway, it’ll be less risky.”
I frowned but unbuckled my seatbelt. My yielding came mainly from guilt about how red the tips of his ears had gotten. If he froze to death because of my stubbornness, I’d never forgive myself.
“Okay,” David said once we’d settled into our respective spots. “Quick review before we go: what do you do if you hit a patch of black ice?”
My stomach dipped at the thought. I’d forgotten that was even a possibility. “I’m not going to.”
“It’s a what-if scenario.”
“There’s no what-ifs about it.” My hands squeezed the steering wheel as if we were spinning out-of-control right now.
“I thought we worked through this not being in control of everything?” he asked.
“Progress isn’t linear.”
He laughed. “Fair enough, Daredevil. What you’re going to do is avoid slamming on the brakes. That’ll feel like the natural response, but it’s not.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“If you skid, turn in its direction.” He covered his hand over mine, turning the wheel and squeezing me for a second before letting go. “Pull off to the side of the road once you’ve gained control, and we’ll figure out our next steps. Keep breathing the entire time; you’ll be fine. You got this.”
My shoulders relaxed a bit at his vote of confidence. “You’re not scared I’m going to get us in a serious accident?”
He shook his head. Trust made his dark brown eyes kinder. “Your capabilities are endless.”
I snorted and put the car in drive. “Oh, how flattering.”
“When I compliment you, I get flak. When I offend, I get flak,” he mused. “What can I do that’ll earn me something nice?”
“You don’t like me nice.” I pulled us out of the parking lot with timid hesitation. There were no cars on this stretch of road, and yet, I looked for any and every chance of interference.
“I like you in all kinds of ways,” David promised.
I had to focus hard not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. “Shut up. I have to focus.”
“In case of fire and flood,” he promised. “You’ve got it.”
We were silent for a long stretch, the wind from the cracked windows and low hum of old Christmas music filling in the gaps between us. I kept my eyes on the road, grateful for David’s reassuring hand on my thigh when I reached a slight curve as we made our way up the mountains.
“You’re doing great,” he said in a low voice as if he were afraid to disrupt my flow.
“I know.”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I told you so.”
I rolled my eyes but let him have it. And let me enjoy the gentle warmth of support. The quiet returned for a beat before David broke it again with,
“Nice work.”
My smile was instantaneous. “Right?”
He hummed, thinking for a second before saying, “And because of that, I can’t help but wonder when you are going to talk to your sister?”
The smile disappeared. “Which one? And about what?”
“Logan. About the accident,” he said simply.
My gaze strayed from the road for a second to hunt for the punchline. “What?”
“It could help you get over some of your fear.” His tone was serious and somber. “Help you get better at something you’re more than capable of doing.”
“I… no, I don’t think I’m going to bring it up again.” I winced and readjusted in my seat. David removed his hand, giving me space to try to manage my discomfort. “That would hurt us both.”
“Or maybe it’s exactly what you two need?
” he asked in a low, unassuming tone. “Maybe if you talk to her, you’ll see you didn’t ruin her life.
She loves you, Yara. That was more than clear when I met her.
Your whole family does. And if they knew how much guilt you took on. How much you were hurting yourself—”
“I’m not doing that anymore,” I interrupted and nudged my chin to my pack of gum in the car’s cup holder. “I’m… doing better.”
“So much,” he agreed. “But this part of recovery could help with all the rest. I just think you should consider it.”
I glanced at him again, only to find pure hopefulness in his eyes.
As much as the idea of talking to my sister about old haunts made my stomach churn, David’s concern counteracted the discomfort.
I didn’t feel half as hollowed out and lonely as I would if I had to face the possibility of talking to Logan on my own.
“I’ll consider it,” I promised.
His smile made the car warmer and brighter. “That’s my girl.”
I laughed like the words didn’t give me a surge of pride and a sense of achievement. “Shut up.”
I got us to our final destination without so much as a hint of a mistake. The weight on my chest vanished as soon as I pulled into a spot shielded by the trees of the dark, windswept forest.
“This is it?” I got out of the car and marvelled at the two-story log cabin that glowed from the inside with orange lights.
“Ours for a grand total of three days.” David smiled. He’d been watching me since I pulled into the drive, tracking every change of my expression. “Not the runaway of our dreams—these are shockingly more expensive than I hoped— but it’s something. It’s a start.”
“What do you mean? It’s perfect.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed.
His smile faded slightly. “I wanted someplace where we could stay longer so you could just relax in peace. But… well, let’s just say once I get signed to a team, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll spend months in nice places.”
I frowned and placed a hand on his cheek. “Hey, I would have stayed in your dorm with you and would have been perfectly happy. There’s no reason for you to spend a ton of money.”
“I know, but I want to. You’re used to stuff like this, and I want to keep it that way.” His confession pulled back a layer of insecurity. “You deserve it to stay that way.”
I kissed him. My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. I’d never expected David to keep up with the Joneses. Or for him to make enough to reach the level my parents found themselves. But having him so earnestly want to both mended and broke my heart.
“I’d be with you if you never got signed, you know that, right?” I whispered against his lips. “If you wanted to work some crappy job or live in a small apartment with noisy neighbors and awful water pressure.”
“You would not.” His laugh felt like a cool breeze on a perfect evening.
“I would.” I brushed my nose against his. “I also would probably go home to take a decent shower now and then, but that’s beside the point.”
David continued to laugh and pulled me closer, so my cheek rested against his collarbone.
“You don’t have to impress me,” I promised, voice muffled from his shirt.
“Maybe not.” He pressed his nose into my hair. “Regardless, I’m going to.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” I playfully pulled away and shoved him in mock-disapproval.
“Learned from the best.” He reached for my hand again. “Come on, I want to give you a tour.”
Our weekend getaway had two bedrooms, a roaring fireplace, a fully stocked fridge, and a hot tub with a mountain view.
The place was beautifully decorated, covered in browns, greens, and reds.
Shag carpets felt like sinking into a layer of velvet.
After a walk-through, David let me stay inside while he grabbed our bags.
It hit me then: I was away on a trip with a guy I could barely stomach being in the same room with for more than an hour at the beginning of this year.
And now, watching him go back and forth between the car and the house to bring in all my luggage had me fantasizing about spending years to come in plenty of vacation homes with him.
And eventually, some permanent place where we could argue over furniture, wallpaper, and couch placement.
I wanted to wear any and every jersey of his team, and come home to him after a long day at work, just to vent about how much my feet hurt and how exhausted my bones were.
“All good?” David closed the door, untangling his scarf and running a hand through his hair to brush off the lingering snow.
I nodded, heart skipping from holding onto all these wishful imaginings and realizing they could come true. I trusted David enough to believe every one of my dreams could come true. “What should we do first?”
“Whatever you want,” he permitted with a shrug.
“Hot tub?”
“Already trying to undress, I see,” he teased.
“I am.” I smiled. “It was a long drive. And you’ve been ordering me around all day. Why did you think I kept readjusting?”
“You serious?” His jaw tightened at the thought of me turned on and ready for him.
“This time,” I warned. “Don’t think it’ll always work.”
“This time is enough for me.” He shed his jacket and nudged his chin toward the hot tub. “Lead the way.”
I laughed and did what I was told…. this time.