Chapter 1

Bella

Present Day

“Are you sure there aren’t any other options? I’m happy to wait as long as it takes.” Desperation laces my voice, and I bite my bottom lip, hard. Despite tasting blood, I keep gnawing, hoping it will somehow get me out of this mess.

This can’t be happening. Not again.

I try to muster every ounce of natural charm I have, knowing that even on my best day, I’m about as endearing as a honey badger. It’s not the flight assistant's fault that I screwed up again, but something about how perfect she looks with her sleek black hair and bright red lips makes me want to scream.

She hasn’t lifted her fluffy lashes in the last five minutes, and her typing is so loud that every keystroke feels like a strike to my brain. Tapping my driver’s license on the desk, I try to calm my anxiety, but no amount of fake smiling is working. If I don’t get home, this will be the worst Christmas ever.

In times like these, I can’t help but think about what my life would have been like if I’d moved to London as originally planned. Cozy cafes and Tom Hardy would be keeping me company instead of the cold white tiles of the Hope, Indiana airport. Not to mention, it would be incredibly hard to disappoint anyone since I’d be thousands of miles away.

The flight attendant clicks her mouth a few times, tutting away any hope I have of getting out of this airport. She looks up with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and says, “I’m sorry, Miss Summers. As I have already said several times, because of the snowstorm, we have had to cancel all inbound and outbound flights.”

She points her pink manicured nail to the window as if I can’t see the blanket of white hurtling to the ground. We’re close enough to see the snow sticking to the glass, but I’ve been trying to ignore that little fact.

“I don’t get it. We’re in Indiana. There’s always snow in December. How can the airport not be prepared for it? That’s like saying Orlando isn’t prepared for the heat.” I try to tone down the sarcasm in my voice, but with my fixed grin fading and her eyes narrowing, I know I’ve failed.

The attendant clears her throat and adjusts her little red neckerchief. “Because, Ma’am, it’s not just snow. It’s forecasted to develop into a blizzard by this evening. It would be life-threatening to take off and land in these conditions.” Her voice doesn’t hide how stupid she thinks I am for asking, but I’m desperate. I need to get home to see my family. It’s the first time my dad will be home since he became head coach for the St. Michael’s football program, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to spend time with him without the football team present.

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

She closes her eyes, and her jaw flexes the tiniest bit. I get it. I’ve been standing here for thirty minutes, begging for a flight, and even though the line behind me is growing, I won’t leave. My tenacity is the worst trait I inherited from my father, my straight teeth being the best.

“The only thing I can suggest is that you watch the weather reports, and once the blizzard has cleared, you can call us to book the next available flight.”

“But I have been watching them, and they’re saying it could take at least five days to pass.”

“That’s correct.” At this point, she’s stopped being nice, glancing above my head and giving the people behind me a visible eye roll.

“But that means I won’t get to Tampa until the day after Christmas.” Oh, how I miss Tampa right now. With its warm weather and beautiful beaches, we never have these issues.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s the best I can do. I can always process a refund if that option doesn't work.”

Well, I guess I should just stick a red and white fuzzy hat on my head because what’s more Christmassy than getting stuck in a snowstorm? No, wait, disappointing my dad would be more akin to my festive traditions . Every Christmas, I’ve always found a way to inadvertently ruin it, but my ditching the entire affair takes the proverbial Yule Log.

What the hell am I supposed to do in Hope, Indiana, for the next week? With the blizzard coming through, the malls will be closed, and I don’t have running shoes to tolerate this kind of weather. I’ll be staring at my dorm room ceiling all day, eating my way through my roommate Marissa’s incessantly large Flamin’ Hot Doritos stock.

Pulling out my credit card, I accept the inevitable and slide it across the desk. “I guess I’ll take that refund then.” I sigh. At least getting one thousand dollars back means I can put that money toward another trip to London.

The attendant smiles, attempting to hold back the delight of finally dealing with me, and when she hands my driver’s license and credit card back, I mumble out a reluctant ‘thank you’ as I drag my suitcase away.

I can feel the eyes of other passengers on me, and there are a few grumbles as I walk past because I kept them waiting, but I barely acknowledge them. I’m too busy clutching my phone and thinking about the repercussions of the day. Wondering how I’m going to break it to my parents that I’ll miss their annual town Christmas party. The one they haven’t been able to throw the last few years because St. Michael’s has always made it to the playoffs, and my dad has needed to be at the college prepping the team for a potential Championship game.

Shaking my head, I try to put that thought aside because the most important thing right now is figuring out how I will get to my dorm. Pulling out my phone, I swipe away the sweaty strands of blonde hair that have fallen out of my waterfall braid and order an Uber.

Walking with intent, I make my way to the airport entrance.

Buzz.

UBER CANCELLED.

What the hell, Dave?

I stare at my screen, thinking this can’t be right. There must be something wrong. Granted, this isn’t the first time Dave, the only Uber driver in Hope, has let me down, but I thought we’d gotten over that whole freshman year fiasco when I threw up after one too many shots. He’s always been happy to charge me extra since, so I can’t figure out why he’s being elusive now.

As I’m writing my angry text to Dave, someone knocks against my shoulder, pushing me back with so much force that I lose balance on my heels.

“Watch it,” I grumble as a hand grabs my side to hold me steady. A small bolt of electricity runs through my arm, straight to my chest.

I can hardly breathe and sweat prickles at my brows. Am I having a heart attack?

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

That voice: smooth as butter, deep as the Pacific Ocean, cuts through me like an obsidian knife. I know that velvety tone anywhere, and I bristle my hand away before whipping my head to meet his eyes.

“Drew?” I had intended it to come out with malice, but it sounded breathier and more seductive than anticipated. “What are you doing here?” That’s better.

With beautiful Roman features and dimples that could light up a room, his face cracks into an easy smile as if my spiky attitude doesn’t affect him. I suppose he’s used to it by now. His eyes track my outfit, and I cross my arms over my chest, making it harder for him to judge my clothes. He’s always had a bee in his bonnet about how I dress and has never been afraid to tell me. “I’d say I’m here for the same reason as you, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone wear something like that to travel on a plane.”

I huff out an annoyed breath, standing straighter in my heeled booties because I refuse to let him think that his words affect my confidence. “I planned on meeting some friends for drinks when I landed.”

Drew narrows his deep brown eyes, focusing on the black and white pleated skirt that pokes out from under my white jacket. “Ah, which ones?” He purses his lips, mulling over his question. “Haydee, Kaylee, and Bailey?” There’s no hiding the amusement in his voice at the mere mention of my best friends from our high school. “You know, it’s funny. I never thought you fit in with those girls.”

I jut my chin forward. “And why’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He shrugs. “Your name doesn’t rhyme with theirs.”

Rolling my eyes, I push back on my heels to create some distance. “Why are you still here? You usually get the flight home with my dad to talk strategy.” And that’s pretty much the main reason I always fly out a day later than my father, because hanging out with my arch-nemesis while my dad drools over his cleats has never appealed to me.

Drew drapes his duffle bag up over his shoulder. “I stayed behind to finish a paper because I thought I’d get distracted at home.”

His eyes drop to my lips, watching me purse them. Drew was nearly valedictorian of our graduating class, and he has to maintain a B average to keep his St. Michael’s football scholarship, so that excuse doesn’t add up.

His thumb twitches against the strap of his bag, caressing it gently, and I gulp. “Speaking of distractions. Where’s Brianna?” I draw out her name sarcastically because it always makes me feel a little less inferior. “She’s usually clinging to you like a bad smell.”

Brianna James is one of those girls that wakes up looking perfect. With a flawless face and boobs perkier than the Eiffel Tower, she and Drew make this obnoxiously beautiful pair. “Thought you’d want to finally introduce her to your family.”

“Keeping track of me, Belly?”

I roll my eyes. “Firstly, don’t call me that. That nickname is reserved for my father only. Secondly, when I see you on campus, I change directions. If I had the choice, I’d pretend you didn’t exist, but it’s tough to do that when yours and Brianna’s faces are plastered all over the school brochure.”

It makes me want to gag seeing their sickeningly beautiful faces smushed together, smiling as though somehow you could look as good as them if you attended St. Michael’s.

He shucks his chin, showing the slightest bit of his pink tongue, and shakes his head. “Nah, Bri and I are just good friends.”

Raising my brow, I give him a once-over. “Good friends? Like how Sabrina, Kat, Betty, and Trina were your good friends in high school?”

Drew’s brows furrow, the faintest of lines appearing in the middle. “If you think I was dating all those girls in high school, you have severely misread the situation, but that’s beside the point.”

I stuff my license in my jacket pocket, and Drew grunts, eyeing me suspiciously. “What about you? Where’s your date home?” He makes a show of staring at the empty space by my side. “Oh, that’s right. You’ve never had one.”

I want to kill him.

Gone is the wide-eyed, apologetic boy who threw a football at my head when we were thirteen, and back is the arrogant quarterback with girls begging for his attention on every street corner. “Just because I don’t flaunt my conquests, doesn’t mean I don’t have them. I’ve had plenty, thank you very much.”

It might be a little white lie, but I’m not about to let him get the better of me.

I dust off the lint on the bottom of my white jacket to distract me from Drew’s intense glare. Even when we were kids, he always had the ability to make me feel like he could see right through my bravado.

“Guys that ditch you to jack off to an avatar on World of Warcraft don’t count as dates, Bella.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, flaring with rage because he just had to go and mention Jimmy Johnson, didn’t he? Yet another one of my major mistakes was finding out, along with the rest of the school at prom, that his best friend, who I just so happened to date for a year, was cheating on me with five other girls online. The worst part, Drew was the one that brought the whole team out to watch my embarrassment.

But this is why I hate Drew. His constant digs and frequent reminders of my past screw-ups make me want to throttle him in the throat.

“Or wait, are you talking about that guy you thought was asking you out in the library last year when all he wanted was to get to a book behind you.”

It’s true, my dating life had been less than stellar over these last few years, but it’s kind of hard to build up any meaningful relationship when your dad is the head coach of one of the best Division I football teams at the college that you also happened to attend. I’m not stupid. I know I’m off-limits, even to the guys who have nothing to do with football, but that doesn’t mean I want to sit at home being a recluse.

I lift my shoulder with sass, pushing past the guy I can never seem to get away from and say over my shoulder, “Whatever, Drew. I don’t have time to deal with this. I’ve got an Uber to catch.”

It’s a lie since I haven’t rebooked Dave, but I’m willing to use any excuse to get away from him. Flicking my skirt with a little more attitude, I silently rebook Dave as I walk to the airport entrance. If I book him enough times, eventually, he’ll accept my ride. He always does.

‘Good Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.’

The pleasant voice of the announcer sounds across the hall, diverting my attention to the giant speaker above the door.

‘Unfortunately, all flights have been canceled due to the dangerous blizzard conditions. The airport will be closing in approximately two hours to ensure the safe passage of all employees and visitors. We kindly recommend you make your way to the airport entrance and take advantage of the remaining taxis. We are also sorry for any inconvenience this closure may cause, but we hope you have a safe journey to your destination and wish you a happy holidays.’

Happy holidays, my butt. She doesn’t sound all that sorry about forcing me to miss Christmas or those five agonizing minutes I spent talking to Drew.

When the entrance doors slide open, the chill of the cold air whips my skirt up in a frenzy and my phone buzzes.

UBER CANCELED

Not again. I’m going to kill Dave the minute he drops me off at my dorm. Why’s he being so unnecessarily difficult? He has a car and wants money. I have money and want a ride. Simple.

I re-order.

We do this dance another three times before I decide to call him.

“Stop booking me, Bella.” His loud, angry voice shouts down the phone.

“Aw, Dave. Not even a hello?”

“Stop booking me,” he repeats, completely ignoring any pleasantries.

“I’ve got an idea. If you pick me up, I can stop rebooking.”

“Have you looked outside recently? I’m not driving all the way to the airport for you just so I can get stuck in the storm on the way home.”

“It’s not that bad,” I say, adjusting my blonde braid. Although I’m not outside, the strands are a little crispy from the frigid air blowing through the door. Just because my knees are knocking and my teeth are chattering doesn’t mean it’s bad enough to miss out on a cab fare.

“I’m not coming, and I’m turning my rides off for the holidays. Good luck finding someone else to help you out.”

I snort because there’s no way he’s being serious…Is he?

Grunting down the phone, it starts to hit me that maybe he is. “Wait!” I shriek. “Please don’t do that. You’re the only one…”

Click.

“Dave?” I pull my phone away from my ear, looking at the blank screen before putting it back up against my cheek. “Dave?” It’s a weak whine now because I know it’s pointless. He’s gone, and I’m on my own in an airport that’s shutting down in less than two hours.

Pushing myself to walk outside, I slump against the brick wall.

Now what?

Not only have I missed the last flight to Florida, but I have no way of getting to my dorm without potentially prostituting myself for a ride, since the taxicab stand is empty.

It can’t get any worse, can it? The thirty-minute walk back to campus isn’t exactly an option in these heels, and I’d probably freeze to death before I found a way back.

But I have no other choice.

Raising my shoulders, I take a deep, cold breath and begin to walk, no matter how shaky I may seem on the cold ground.

The icy road crackles as a black G Wagon slows in front of me. Apparently, it can get worse. I’ve manifested the attention I was trying to avoid. The black-tinted window rolls down, and I curse when I see a familiar St. Michael’s Baseball hat.

“Need a ride?” Smooth velvet again. Of course Drew drives a G Wagon. Boxy and Flashy, just like him. What else would he spend all that sponsorship money on?

Drew’s lips curve into a smile, emphasizing his popping dimples, and I hate that it makes him look so damn cute.

Waving my hand flippantly, I pull my suitcase in the thickening snow and chatter out, “I’m good.” There’s no way in hell that I’m going to accept help from Drew McCallister. Never. He’ll use it against me for the rest of my life, so I go on my merry way without giving him a second thought.

My feet are becoming unsteady now; the small point of my heel can barely make a dent on the hardened ice.

“Are you sure?” With his arm draped out the window, he slowly drives at my walking speed, watching me with his sunglasses on.

I tip my chin and scowl. “Drew, just go ho-” I fumble before I can finish. All I get out are guttural noises and incoherent ramblings because my heel breaks, and I feel myself falling in the cold, icy air.

My whole life flashes in front of me.

Bets I didn’t take, friends I didn’t make, and a very concerned pair of brown eyes run through my mind.

Thwack.

“Oooow, ow, ow, ow.”

My suitcase crashes into the concrete airport wall, splitting open. It doesn’t matter that my underwear is splayed out, freezing in the snow because a stabbing pain radiates through my ass, slightly numbed by the sharp chill from my flipped skirt.

Fuck. My. Life.

Drew’s by my side instantly, throwing his jacket over my thighs to cover my modesty.

My teeth chatter and the searing pain makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. “I’m fine,” I grit out.

Chuckling, Drew stands and ignores me. “You really do hate me, don’t you?” He’s only in a t-shirt, which means I can see goosebumps scattered across his bronzed skin, but that’s the only evidence that his body is affected by the weather.

Turning away, he pulls out his phone and starts dialing a number.

“Who are you calling? It better not be my dad.” I feel a little woozy as I try to sit up, and I must have twisted my ankle because moving it feels damn near impossible.

“An ambulance.”

“Why? It’s just a rolled ankle. I’ll be fine.” I grin, hiding the wince from the pain that seems to worsen, even though the ice should be numbing it.

With his phone to his ear, he looks at my legs and smirks. “Sorry, B. It’s not just a rolled ankle. You’ve broken a bone.” He says it so casually that it takes a minute to sink in.

My brain whirrs in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? No, I didn’t.” This time, I force myself up through the screeching pain. “It’s just a sprain. That’s all it is.”

He snorts. “I wouldn’t look under my jacket then. You’ll be grossly disappointed with what you find.”

Turning away, he speaks into the phone. “Hi, yes, I require an ambulance at Hope airport.”

His words drift past my mind as I brush Drew’s black, puffy jacket off my legs and gasp.

“What the…” My pale skin almost matches the snow, but the most prominent feature is my shin bone poking out of my leg in a direction that is anything but normal.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

I can barely breathe, and I’m even more lightheaded than before.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Bella? Dammit. I told you not to look.” Drew drops his phone, and his big paws immediately clutch my cheeks. “Bella, look at me.”

I try to look at him, but it’s too late; I’m already freaking out. Gulping the air, the only thing I can think about is how bad my leg looks. “Bella, please start breathing.”

His voice sounds like honey as the air thins around me. My head feels so heavy that I have to lean it against Drew’s hands.

The white snow trickling behind Drew starts to darken, and all I can see are the soft tones of Drew’s eyes before everything goes dark.