Chase uttered a cross between a sigh and a frustrated growl, slumping back in his seat. “I have no way to counter that without getting into specifics.”

I didn’t want to look like I was asking for his bank account balance, because I definitely wasn’t, so I changed the subject.

“Why didn’t you come to me about helping?”

“You would have said no.”

Defensiveness struck me, and I opened my mouth to protest.

But he gave me a look, cutting me off with his end-of-discussion voice. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

It was true. One hundred percent true. And we both knew it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re the most stubborn person I know. You literally do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Kind of, yeah. Been doing it for nearly a decade.” He looked down at where our hands were entwined on the black leather console between us. His brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath before meeting my gaze again. “After my dad died, my mom checked out mentally. I was forging signatures on school permission slips and completing my own hockey registration online by the time I was twelve. I’ve been calling the shots for almost as long as I can remember.”

My stomach pitched. More vulnerability, more difficulty staying angry with him. And honestly, this explained so much about the way Chase was. Stubborn, independent, and set in his own ways.

I knew, deep in my heart, that he’d done it because he cared and thought it was the right thing. It was the calling the shots without me part that was the issue.

“We have to be a team. You know, make big decisions together.”

“I know.” Chase tugged my hand and pulled me closer to him. “I guess some habits are hard to break. I’ll do better.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “That’s fair.”

He tipped my chin up, and his deep brown eyes held mine, so full of affection that it nearly made my heart burst. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

He slanted over the console, brushing his lips against mine for a heartbeat. Just long enough to make me melt but brief enough to leave me wanting more. He knew what he was doing—that simple act made me that much less angry and that much more distracted. A shiver ran down my body, whether from the chill or his kiss, I wasn’t sure. Probably both—the temperature inside the truck had dropped into unbearable territory, and my teeth were nearly chattering. Since Chase ran at a million degrees all the time, he hadn’t noticed, but I was turning into an icicle.

“I’m freezing,” I said. “Let’s go inside and finish talking there.”

Or not talking, as I suspected the case would soon be.