After waiting in an endless line that weaved around a suitcase graveyard, they reached the airline’s help desk. Grace was holding it together for the good news: her bags were not lost. Then came the bad. All of her things had ended up in Detroit for reasons the overworked woman at the desk could not explain.
Numb from shock, Grace let Alix lead her out of the airport’s bowels while she talked about fifty-dollar food vouchers and tried desperately to put a positive spin on her shitty situation.Without suitcases, Grace was forced to shop for something warm in the airport. The bright orange Broncos gloves and matching hoodie were nowhere near as hideous as the orange socks visible with her simple black flats.
“Well, my dad will be excited you’re such a Broncos fan,” Alix joked when they got on the shuttle to the car rental place.
Grace couldn’t muster the energy to pretend not to feel like an absolute clown in her airport clothes. So she didn’t. Instead, she dropped her head on Alix’s shoulder and groaned.
“Your parents are going to think I’m unhinged,” Grace said with a pained sigh.
Alix’s arm around her, pulling her in close and helping her keep out the shocking cold, kept Grace from spiraling. From leaping into the future and imagining the absolute worst possible scenario.
And then Alix chuckled. “Oh, look. It’s snowing.”
Eyes closed, Grace nodded. “Good thing I got that waterproof jacket you recommended.”
Alix crushed her against her chest, energy as bright as when she’d picked her up at the gate. “That’s good. It’s probably snowing in Detroit too.”
Grace laughed instead of reaching for the illusion of control. She was cold, dressed like a lunatic, and heading to meet the parents of a woman she was absolutely developing feelings for. And yet, she’d lose her luggage a hundred times if she could stay tucked under Alix’s arm in a shuttle that stank like mildew.
The race to be the youngest partner at the firm had shaped her life choices for so long. Suddenly, it all felt so trivial by comparison.
Chapter Eighteen
ALIX
The clerkat the car rental counter sighed, then turned the screen and gestured toward the massive white truck like she was unveiling a prize onThe Price Is Right. It was so big and so aggressively bad at gas mileage that Alix half expected a bald eagle to swoop down and bless it right there on the screen.
“You’re late, and we only have two vehicles left. Christmas rush, you know? It’s this, or a Ford Fiesta. Personally, I’d go with this,” the clerk said, clearly unfazed by the dichotomy of choices.
Grace’s brows inched up. “We’re just driving to your parents’ house, not invading it, right?”
Alix signed the last form and pocketed the keys. “I’m not driving you anywhere in a compact car that apparently can’t handle a snowflake.” They walked through the parking garage, where she was sure she saw a few AWD SUVs, but there was the truck. She squinted at her reflection in the chrome bumper, which made her look about two feet tall. “Think of it like a cultural experience. Denver may be a cool city, and hell, even Fort Collins is a college town, but Bellvue? We’re going to fit right in.”
Grace muffled a laugh. “Does it come with an American flag shirt and a country playlist?”
“They’re pre-installed.” Alix tugged open the heavy door, helping Grace in on the passenger side. She walked around the other side, tossing her duffel into the back seat, then hoisted herself up like she was mounting a horse. “Welcome to Colorado, baybee.”
As Grace clicked her seat belt, she was still laughing quietly — an exhausted, melodic sound that landed somewhere deep in Alix’s chest. “What an experience already. We landed in a corn field, we’re driving a truck that feels like you need a special license, and I’m wearing an extreme amount of football fan gear. Did you know this hoodie cost seventy-five dollars at that gift shop?”
“Highway robbery,” Alix said, shaking her head as she connected to CarPlay.
The drive north out of Denver was a long stretch of dark toll road, each mile marker dragging them farther from the city glow and closer to the dark silhouette of the foothills. Snowflakes blew across the windshield like confetti, melting into streaks under the wipers. It had been a while since she’d driven in snow, but she took it slow and steady, hoping it was a skill that stayed forever, like riding a bicycle.
Alix’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. She hadn’t driven this route in ten years. The muscle memory of it hit like a ghost as she merged onto I-25 — every turn, every billboard, every time her mom’s voice had filled the silence with advice she hadn’t asked for.You could still finish college. You could still find a nice guy and settle down. You’re wasting your talent on hair and your alternative lifestyle.
And then Alix had snapped. She didn’t remember the specifics of the fight, but she’d yelled some awful things, and her mom had yelled back, and then she was leaving, slamming thedoor and rushing headfirst into the world more determined than ever.
Now she was back, headlights catching the road signs that still carried the same names — Longmont, Loveland, Fort Collins — while her pulse kept insisting she turn around.
Grace shifted beside her, tucking her hands into her lap. “You okay?”
Alix blinked, realizing she’d been silent for too long. “Yeah,” she said, her voice a little rough. “Just getting reacquainted with the ghost of bad decisions past.”
“’Tis the season.” Grace smiled without pressing, an open invitation if Alix wanted to say more. She did… She just didn’t know how.
The heater hummed, a steady drone against the snow building along the shoulder of the road. The truck felt too warm, the world outside too cold. Between them, a familiar ease started to bloom again, the kind that made Alix want to reach across the console and thread their fingers together. She didn’t. She kept both hands on the wheel, steady as the miles slipped by.
They’d been driving nearly an hour when Alix caught sight of Grace rubbing her hands together for warmth. “You cold?”
