“It’s probably only going to get worse. And we’re close enough to home.” I hoped that was true. I hated driving in weather, and I didn’t want Jasper catching on to exactly how freaked out I was. But maybe there was a way out of the pounding in my head. “Unless…You drive in the snow a lot? I’d be willing to swap drivers.”

“Ha. Much as I’d like the chance to drive a classic beauty like this, I can’t drive a stick.” Jasper laughed, which was good as it probably meant my efforts to hold it together were working, but it also meant I had no choice but to push forward.

Trying to keep my mind off all the possible doomsday scenarios, I made my voice light. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you sometime.”

“I…uh…might take you up on that. You sure?” Jasper shifted in his seat. Maybe he was cold. Wishing I had a more fun way to warm him up, I adjusted the heater again.

“It’s the least I can do. You’re saving my bacon. One card down. Three to go.” Optimism wasn’t my strong suit, but I tried to channel my inner Jasper.

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Jasper sounded more like me for a change, pragmatic and guarded. “After this cold snap clears, maybe. I’d hate to ruin your clutch though.”

“Let me worry about that.” I wanted him excited about this prospect. And if it meant more time together, well, there wasn’t really a downside I could see. It would be worth a repair if it meant doing something for him after all he’d done for me.

“Okay. Deal.” Jasper nodded then stretched his neck. A rogue thought about what I’d like to do to that neck danced through my brain, but I forced my eyes back on the road. A couple of miles passed in silence before Jasper said, “Milo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you had it so crappy. I wish I’d known.” His voice was soft and a little uncertain and warmed me more than the unreliable heater.

“Thanks.” Keeping my eyes on the road, I had to swallow before continuing. “I wish…lots of things.”

“Yeah.” Jasper’s sigh held an entire library’s worth of meaning. We drifted into another silence, this one less tense but still potent. Our conversation had left us in a strange place. He now knew more about me than almost anyone else, but I still had no idea if we were friends again, or if such a thing were even possible. And I’d lived with regret so long that my hope muscles were all atrophied to the point that I didn’t know what exactly I wanted here. Learning to hope again only to fall flat on my face would suck.