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“I love you too,” I reply, not surprised I’m on speaker. “I’ll talk to you guys later, okay?”
“You coming home this weekend?” Mom asks.
I glance at Mack. He’s by the doorway dressed in his T-shirt and jeans with a thick coat and heavy boots, his keys dangling from his hand.
I still don’t have my license. I won’t for a few more weeks. But the idea of disappointing my parents further is more than I can bear.
“It’s late. Really late. And I’m exhausted. We’ll talk about it later, all right?”
“Sure thing, baby,” Mom replies. “And thank you. Again. For answering.”
“No problem.”
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you too.”
I drop my phone onto my lap, and Mack tosses me my clothes. “Chop-chop, Kate. Let’s get your medicine.”
* * *
As Mack opensthe garage door and backs out of the driveway, a gust of wind shakes the cab of his SUV, and my eyes widen as I take in the white wonderland in front of me. Apparently, the temperature dropped enough for the rain to turn to snow, and it’s quite the spectacle. Winter is officially here.
The headlights on Mack’s car slice through the darkness as the wheels roll over the untouched snow. It’s beautiful. Trees line both sides of the winding road, their branches hanging low from the weight of the snow.
There isn’t another car in sight. There’s not usually much traffic since Mack lives in the middle of nowhere, but in the dead of night? It’s even more of a ghost town. The realization wracks me with guilt as I stare at the dark expanse around us.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, my voice carrying more than I expected in the silent cab.
Mack glances at me. “Sorry for what?”
“For a lot of things,” I admit. “For forgetting my medicine, for losing my license and making you drive me everywhere, especially in the middle of the night. For waking you up in the first place and using all your gas since I was so spacey. I’m…I’m seriously sorry.”
Reaching over the center console, he grabs my knee and squeezes. “Don’t apologize for shit like that.”
“I’m embarrassed. I made you get up––”
“You gave me the opportunity to make sure you’re taken care of,” he counters. “And if you haven’t figured it out by now, let me make myself clear. I like taking care of you. I like knowing you’re okay. Knowing you’re happy, healthy, and able to be the best Kate you can be.”
“Yeah, but taking care of me when it’s broad daylight versus two in the morning are two very different things,” I argue, no matter how freaking sweet he’s being.
“Who needs sleep, Kate? I’d rather hang out with you in the middle of the night any day of the week than waste it in bed, snoring away.”
My treacherous heart skips a beat as I look down at my lap.
“You don’t snore,” I mutter.
“Oh, I don’t?”
“No. You do this––” I almost saycute, but stop myself at the last second and try again. “You do this little…this little breathing thing. It’s kind of raspy and rumbly, but it isn’t snoring.”
He chuckles. “Okay. Well, I’d rather hang out with you than do the raspy, rumbly thing in my sleep. Better?”
“Maybe.” I peek up at him again.
He’s too damn sweet. Too damn thoughtful.
I wish I knew what he was thinking.
