Bad Things

22. Redemption

Moments later, Shawn's car emerged out of the blizzard, and he opened the door for Camila. She slid into the passenger seat, her teeth chattering uncontrollably, as Shawn closed the door behind her. She flexed her fingers to try to get the blood flowing through them again, and Shawn climbed in the driver's seat beside her. He immediately shoved his keys into the ignition, starting the car and turning the heater on full blast. Camila shuddered as the initial cold gust hit her sodden face and clothing.

Shawn flipped on the windshield wipers, but seconds after each swipe the glass was covered once more. He let out a frustrated breath. "We're going to have to wait until it slows."

"O-o-okay," Camila said through chattering teeth and shook her hands out, still desperately trying to bring feeling and warmth back to them.

Shawn reached over and took them in his, bringing them up to his mouth and blowing hot air onto them. He glanced up at her from under his lashes. "That better?"

"A little," she whispered, keeping her eyes on his as he blew again. She shivered once more, but this time not from the cold.

"Now?" he asked quietly.

Camila nodded, the feeling starting to come back to her fingertips in a painful prickling sensation. Shawn moved his face back, but kept his hands surrounding hers, his thumbs moving back and forth over her knuckles. The air coming from the vents had started to lose its chill and held a slight bit of warmth now, but not nearly as much as his touch on hers.

"We should get you out of that jacket."

Camila frowned. "What?"

Shawn let go of her hands and reached behind her seat. "It's soaking wet. You'll never get warm with that thing on." He pulled a backpack onto the console between them and started rifling through it. After a few seconds, he drew out a hooded sweatshirt. "Here," he held it out to her, "put this on."

"Well, what about you? You're wet too." Camila nodded her head toward his shirt. "I'm not taking the only dry piece of clothing you have. I have stuff on underneath."

Shawn threw the sweatshirt at her. "I have something else to wear."

Camila raised her brows skeptically.

He lifted his in return. Dipping his hand back into the bag, he drew out a black shirt. "See?"

"That's only a t-shirt," she scolded. "That's not enough."

"Okay, Mom," Shawn said with a roll of his eyes, as he started to unbutton his wet shirt.

Camila turned away, her cheeks flaming hot. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and seemed to stop. Shawn's words repeated themselves in her head over and over again. Mom. He'd called her that as a joke, she knew, but the reality of that word hit her so hard she could barely breathe.