“Fuck,” I mumbled.
“What are you gonna do? Do you want me to call your dad?” he asked. I cringed at how his question sounded and hoped Aspen didn’t hear him.
“Nah. I’ll be fine. I’m actually sitting in the cab of the truck in the lane next to me.”
“You sure? Because I was kind of hoping Shaker could fly in and drop a rope down to you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I laughed. “But you can let my boss know I’m not going to make it to work in the morning.”
He laughed. “Will do. Stay safe, brother.”
“Did you say morning?” Aspen asked as soon as the phone left my ear.
I nodded solemnly. “Yeah. That was my roommate. He was watching the news, and they said motorists would likely be stranded until morning. He also told me we’re getting several inches more snow than originally expected.”
She slumped back in her seat, and a look of worry washed over her face.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said distractedly. “I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to drive this monster truck the rest of the way home through snow and ice. Because I’m going to be really honest here; I wasn’t doing such a great job when the roads were clear.”
I completely understood where she was coming from. I was an experienced rider, but I’d never ridden through snow and ice, and I didn’t want to learn in snow almost a foot deep. However, I had no problem driving a vehicle while it was snowing.
“How much room do you have back there?” I asked and gestured to the truck behind us with my thumb.
“I don’t know,” she said with a hint of confusion. “A lot. Why?”
“Will my bike fit?”
She tilted her head to the side and studied me for a few moments while she thought about my question.
“It will if you’re offering to drive when traffic starts moving again.”
“I am,” I said and extended my hand. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she said and placed her hand in mine once again.
And once again, I ignored how much I liked the feel of her soft hand in mine.
Surprisingly, loading my bike into the back of her moving truck was easier than expected. The truck was equipped with a ramp, and there was plenty of room as almost half the truck was empty.
While I secured my bike, she rummaged around through some of her packed belongings. When we returned to the warmth of the cab, she spread out a small blanket between us and dumped out the contents of the bag she was holding. “Want something to eat or drink?”
I looked down at the pile of snacks and bottles of flavored water and smiled. “I’m starving.”
“Help yourself.”
So I did. I was well into my second bag of chips when I realized I was the only one enjoying snack time.
“You’re not hungry?” I asked.
“No, I already ate,” she said.
And then her stomach growled.
She slapped a hand over her abdomen and shook her head. “Okay, fine. I’m hungry. But if I eat, I’ll have to drink. And if I drink, I’ll have to pee. And there’s nowhere to really do that.”
“Go in the back of the truck. You should have some kind of bucket or container back there,” I suggested.