So I Married A Rockstar - Season 2

Ch. 2: Midnight Sandwiches

We'd barely gone five steps when the wind whipped up, blasting torrents of snow into our faces, and I had to hunch over, clutching my hood with both hands to keep it blowing off my head.

I followed Finn's footprints, stepping in each indent he left, but a strong gust of wind lashed into me and knocked me off balance. I stumbled, hands flailing, feet sliding on the frozen ground.

Finn grabbed my hand, steadying me. "Almost there," he shouted, pointing.

Through the howling curtain of snow, I glimpsed the ground flattening out up ahead, and then Finn's house, a refuge from the storm. I almost cried with relief. We struggled through the snow until we reached the door that led into Finn's living room. He pushed me inside, then followed, pulling the door shut behind him.

He still hadn't let go of my hand.

As snowflakes melted on my eyelashes and ran down my face, I felt a great surge of something in my chest, as if I were about to laugh or cry.

A choked giggle crept out before I could stop it.

Finn abruptly dropped my hand, and the giggle died in my throat.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair.

I pushed back my hood and wiped my wet eyes. At least I'd worn waterproof mascara.

Finn unzipped his coat with a rough, jerky motion, and slung it onto the back of a nearby chair. I wanted to do the same, but I was a stranger in Finn's home, and he was looking at me with that scowl again, same as when we'd met.

"What the hell do I do with you now?" he said.

I wasn't sure if that was rhetorical, but I answered anyway. "I'll be on my way as soon as the blizzard stops."

"Do you have any idea how long that'll take?"

"I'm not a meteorologist."

We glared at each other, while the fire crackled in the background. Water ran down my forehead from the melting snow in my hair, and I irritably scrubbed it away with my sleeve.

"Look," I said, trying to soften my voice. "I get that this isn't ideal, but if you can put me up for a few hours, or even overnight –"

"Does that look like it'll be gone by tomorrow?" Finn interrupted, pointing at the huge windows.

I looked.

The sky was the colour of iron, making the world outside look like twilight rather than early afternoon, and wind and snowfall furiously buffeted the glass. My heart sank. The blizzard itself might stop, but how deep would the snow be when it did? Too deep to drive through, even if I could get my car working again and find a way around the fallen tree.

"How long do you think it'll last?" I said.

Finn's scowl turned pensive, but he didn't answer.

"It can't last forever," I said.

"No, but it might feel like it," Finn muttered.

"What do you mean?"

Finn kicked off his boots and shoved them into a corner. I kept mine on, dripping water over the rug on the floor, like a sad melting popsicle.

"You know anything about the Big Freeze of '63?" he said.

"Is that a movie or something?"

Finn sighed. "No, Tasha, it's not a fucking movie. It's the crazy winter conditions that Britain faced in 1963, the coldest winter this country had seen in over two hundred years."