“Hold on tighter,” he warns. “It’s dangerous, riding around in the snow.” Tentatively, I lean closer, until I can feel the heat of his skin despite the cold. “Tighter.” “What?” My face flushes. “I’m already—” He makes a small sound like a sigh and grabs my wrists, pulling them higher so they’re locked just over his taut stomach, my entire upper body pressed snugly against his. “I don’t want to be legally responsible for any accidents,” he says over the hum of the engine.
