Page 204 of Tessa and Nash

And what remains is… this.

I exhale slowly.

“You look stunned,” I say.

His mouth curves slightly. “I am stunned.”

“Because I said it?”

“Because you said it back.”

A quiet laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “You did confess first.”

“Yes,” he says. “While standing on a frozen road like an idiot.”

“You were a very convincing idiot.”

“That’s good to know.” He rubs the insides of my wrists. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“What about your date?”

He cocks a brow. “My date is Nell. I don’t think she’s going to miss me.”

I smirk and shake my head. Of course it’s my grandmother. That’s just so her. “Okay, let’s go.”

“We’ll go back to mine. No sneaking around because of your uncle tonight.”

I roll my eyes. “I like the sound of that.”

The drive to the McCoy ranch feels strangely quiet.

Buckhorn disappears behind us in a wash of warm lights and laughter while the road stretches out across the dark valley, the snow on the fields reflecting the pale shine of the moon. Nash drives with one hand on the wheel and the other loosely threaded through my fingers, as if letting go might undo everything we just said.

For once, neither of us seems particularly interested in filling the silence, which is unusual for us.

“You’re very quiet,” I say eventually.

“I’m thinking.”

“That seems dangerous.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I’m thinking about the fact that two hours ago I assumed you hated me.”

“That was an exaggeration.”

“You ran.”

“You confessed your love, and then detonated a town council meeting,” I remind him. “My reaction was proportionate.”

“Fair.”

The truck turns onto the gravel road leading to the McCoy ranch, the familiar outline of the house appearing ahead through the dark.

My stomach tightens slightly.

“What?” Nash asks.

“I’m considering the logistics.”