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“Also yes.”

“Do you want to get a job as a professor?”

“Maybe someday.” She shrugs restlessly. “Right now, I don’t want anything tying me down. No obligations other than finishing my degree and figuring out where to go next. Travel to Sri Lanka? Take improv classes? Who knows!”

Her bravado sounds forced. I wait for her to say more, to explain what’s so terrible about a life with structure and someone who relies on you, but she falls silent again.

“So how’d you—”

“Look out!” she cries.

Her shout sharpens my focus, and I slam on my brakes, narrowly avoiding the red brake lights stretching in front of us. The traffic jam hadn’t been visible until we were almost on top of it, and my heart’s in my throat as we skid to a stop mere inches away from the bumper of the car in front of us.

I hit the hazards and glance in the rearview mirror to confirm that the cars behind us have safely stopped too, and then I let my head fall forward onto the steering wheel, pulse racing.

“What does the weather report say now?” I ask without looking up. “Is it supposed to let up anytime soon?”

Birdy grabs her phone and pokes at the screen with a shaky finger. “Shit.”

“That’s a no?”

“Continuing snow and wind gusts worsening through 4 a.m., when the snow finally lets up,” she reports.

That means hours more of dangerous travel, and if the traffic around us is any indication, we’re not likely to make much progress.

“Shit.” I run my hands through my hair as I think through the logistics. It’s the 21st. If the snow clears up tomorrow, the rest of the trip’s doable in one long shot across Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana to get to my parents’ place in enough time to take the kids sledding on the 23rd as I promised. Of course, if it doesn’t clear up, I’ll be screwed.

Well. Better screwed than stuck in the middle of an interstate pile-up.

“What’s the next town down the road?” I ask.

She squints at her phone screen, the brake lights in front of us painting her face a lurid red. “Three more miles to Buffalo, and then there’s Niagara Falls.”

“Okay.” I scrub my hands down my cheeks and inch the car forward. “Let’s hope we can find a hotel.”

SEVEN

Birdy

I’m perched on a stiff hotel chair when the lock clicks and Sebastian enters with our luggage.

“I didn’t know what you needed, so I grabbed…”

His eyes widen as he takes in the rest of the room.

“I already called and asked,” I say in as even a tone as I can manage. “They apologize that it’s not two queens like we requested, and no, they don’t have any rooms they can switch us to.”

Sebastian’s eyes travel from me to the king-size bed and back.

“Um. Okay. Should we—”

“We should be adults about it and just try to get some sleep.” Sure, the thought of lying next to him all night makes my skin tingle, but it’s nothing I can’t ignore.

Sebastian, meanwhile, looks horrified. He hasn’t set the bags down yet, and his throat works as he swallows, eyes back on the bed. It sends the embarrassment I thought I’d banished earlier in the day spiking through my veins.

“I’m not going to maul you or anything.” I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin. “Or do you want to try our luck at another hotel?”

He slowly shakes his head, exhaustion hanging off of him. Last night wasn’t the most restful for me, and I’m guessing he didn’t fare much better. Plus, he just drove for hours in shitty conditions. He needs to sleep.

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