Page 54

Tate talks about breakfast and gloats that he had the right idea to stop for groceries.

I wish I’d thought about the shampoo then. I could have picked some up while we were in the store and this wouldn’t be happening. But I was so distracted thinking about Callan and what happened between us that it wasn’t on my mind.

I’m usually better at this. This whole trip is throwing me off balance in the worst way.

Tate looks at me, asking how I want my eggs, and I shake my head. I can’t even think about eating right now when my stomach is in knots and every part of me is agitated.

“I need to run out for something.”

All three of them frown.

“Brynn,” Tate says. “You saw what it looks like out there.”

“I know. But this is important. I’ll be careful.”

Callan’s face is set in stony lines as he looks at me. “You are not going out there in that weather,” he says, his tone firm.

“I really need to,” I argue. “It’ll be quick. I just really, really need to grab something from the store.”

I feel fidgety, rubbing the pads of my fingers together just for the sensation of it. I probably look crazy to them, but Callan doesn’t look away.

Some of the stubbornness bleeds out of him as he looks at me, and he huffs before getting up from the table and striding down the hall.

He comes back a minute later with boots and his coat on.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t need you to come.”

He gives me a flat look. “Sorry, that wasn’t a question. It was a statement, with a period at the end. If you’re going out, then I’m coming with you. End of story.”

“Callan, come on,” I argue. “It’s freezing outside. You should just stay here.”

That flat expression doesn’t change an inch. “Funny, you’re giving all the reasons that you should stay here,” he says. “But you insist on going, so let’s go.”

It’s obvious he’s not going to take no for an answer, and the last thing I want is for him to try to stop me from going. I know from experience that he could carry me to my room if he wanted to. So I sigh, giving in.

“Fine.”

My cheeks are pink with embarrassment over the whole thing. Obviously Callan can tell that this is an OCD thing, and I hate the idea that he’s doing this because he pities me or thinks he has to treat me with kid gloves.

But whatever. There’s clearly no arguing with Callan about it, so I just lead the way out to the car. Tate and Ares seem to have calmed down about me going out, since Callan is coming with me, so at least I don’t have to argue with anyone else.

It takes a good fifteen minutes to get enough snow off the car that I can see out of the windows, and then there’s the trial of backing out of the cottage’s driveway. The snow isn’t packed so hard that I can’t drive over it, at least, and I make it out onto the road without incident.

But the guys weren’t wrong about how bad the conditions are out here. I try to take the main road into town and find that part of it is blocked off by a downed tree. I can feel Callan’s eyes boring into the side of my head as I fiddle with the GPS on my phone and turn off onto a side street.

There are back roads we can take all the way to the nearest shop, but it’s incredibly slow going.

It’s still snowing, and the windshield wipers are doing their best to keep up with it all. The roads are slick with snow and black ice, so I can’t go more than thirty miles per hour. At one point the car fishtails a bit, and I clench my hands around the steering wheel, trying to get back in control.

I manage it, and keep us heading in the right direction.

When I glance over at Callan, his expression is hard.

That just pisses me off. “You know, it’s kind of shitty for you to just sit there glaring the whole time,” I snap. “You didn’t even have to come.”