Chapter 1
EMILY
I don’t know why my hands won’t stop shaking. Maybe it’s the cold. Or maybe it’s him.
Jay’s sitting across from me in this tiny waiting area, headphones on, hoodie pulled low like he’s trying to disappear. I can’t stop watching him.
He’s always been like this — quiet, too smart, a little older than his age in that serious kind of way. And even though we barely talk outside of class or awkward bus rides, something about being stranded in this half-broken airport with him makes everything feel... closer.
I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him right now.
We’re supposed to be focused on getting home. The storm’s already canceling flights, and the air smells like coffee and panic. But the charter pilot just waved us in.
“Private ride’s ready,” he grunts. “We leave now or not at all.”
Jay stands before I do. He doesn’t say anything, just offers his hand.
It’s stupid how warm it feels.
---
JAY
I shouldn’t have taken her hand.
Emily’s fingers are cold, but the moment I touch them, they hold on like they’ve been waiting to do it for a long time. I let her.
We walk across the snow to this old-ass plane that’s probably been through hell and back. The pilot looks like he could drop dead any second.
“Just a short ride,” he mutters. “Storm’s on our tail, but we’ll beat it.”
I don’t believe him. But Emily’s looking at me like I’m her whole safety plan, and damn it — I can’t be the one to turn back.
We climb in. The seats are tight. Her leg brushes mine and doesn’t move.
I close my eyes and breathe deep. She smells like winter and something sweeter. I need to stop thinking like this.
Her kind of family doesn’t let guys like me in the front door. And even if she says she’s different — I’ve seen enough to know better.
But I let my arm brush hers anyway.
---
EMILY
We lift off fast.
Too fast.
The plane jerks and groans and the sky outside is already darkening. The clouds swallow us. Everything is white.
Then I hear it — that sound. Like something tearing. Something… wrong.
I turn to Jay. His eyes are wide.
The pilot slumps forward.
“Jay…” I whisper.
He’s already unbuckling, trying to grab the controls, yelling, “Hold on!”
And then everything tilts sideways.
Screaming. Wind. The awful, sharp noise of metal against ice.
The last thing I remember is Jay’s hand still wrapped around mine.
---
JAY
Pain wakes me up first. Then the cold.
For a second, I can’t breathe. Everything hurts — my shoulder, my ribs, my head. I don’t even know how I’m alive.
Then I remember the crash.
“Emily,” I rasp.
She’s slumped beside me, blood trickling from her forehead. Her eyes are shut, lips pale.
No. No. No.
I shove broken pieces of seat and snow away and reach for her. “Emily. Hey. Wake up.”
Her chest rises — barely — but it’s enough to make my lungs work again.
I press two fingers to her neck. Pulse. Thank God.
The plane’s nose is buried in snow, tilted like a broken toy. I can smell gas. One of the wings is gone. The front is smashed in and the pilot... is gone.
We need to get out.
Now.
I unclip her seatbelt, lift her as gently as I can, and climb out through a shattered door into snow that bites like razors.
We’re on a mountain. Middle of nowhere. No buildings. No roads. Just endless white and trees too far below.
We’re really stuck.
---
EMILY
Something’s burning. No, it’s just my head.
I open my eyes slowly. I’m lying in the snow, and Jay’s face is inches from mine.
“Em,” he says, voice rough. “You're okay. You're okay.”
I don’t feel okay.
My head’s pounding. My body’s stiff. My fingers are so cold I can’t feel them.
“I can’t move,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to. I’ve got you.”
He lifts me again, cradling me close, like I weigh nothing. His jacket is already dusted with snow. His lips are cracked. There’s blood on his cheek.
I should be terrified.
But I’m not.
I’m… safe. Because it’s Jay.
He lays me down inside part of the broken tail section, where some insulation is still holding. He grabs bags, checks for supplies. His hands are shaking.
“You’re hurt too,” I say.
He shrugs. “I’m fine.”
But he’s not. He’s bleeding from his arm, his hoodie ripped open.
Still, he wraps a space blanket around me, his own body blocking the wind.
He doesn’t complain. Doesn’t ask why I’m crying.
Just stays.
---
JAY
I don’t know what to do.
No signal. No flares. Just a couple protein bars, two water bottles, and a half-dead flashlight.
And her.
She shouldn’t be here. She’s too soft for this. She doesn’t know how to handle pain, cold, death.
But she’s trying. She keeps reaching for me like I’m the thing keeping her sane.
Truth is — she might be doing the same for me.
I find an old emergency radio. It’s dead. No power.
Night’s falling. Temperature’s dropping fast.
I don’t say it, but we’re screwed.
Unless someone finds us fast, this could go bad — real bad.
Still, I sit beside her, brush snow from her hair, and say, “We’ll be okay.”
She looks up at me. Her eyes fill with tears.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
For what?
But she doesn’t say more.
And I don’t push.
Because the only thing worse than freezing to death... is dying without knowing if she ever really loved me.
---
EMILY
I’ve never felt cold like this.
Not in any winter, not in any storm. This cold feels like it’s inside my bones, clawing through my skin. I can barely stop shivering.
Jay zips his jacket higher, then leans closer.
“We’ll need to share body heat,” he says. His voice is low. Calm, even though I can see the fear behind his eyes.
I nod.
He crawls into the makeshift blanket shelter, his body tense and careful not to press too close. But I scoot in until our legs are touching. I need him. I don’t even care if he knows it.
My face is against his chest, and I can hear his heartbeat. It’s fast.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“No. You?”
“No.”
We both laugh — barely. It’s a tired, scared kind of laugh.
“Jay,” I whisper, after a long pause. “What if they don’t find us?”
He doesn’t answer at first. His arm tightens around me.
“Then I’ll carry you down this mountain myself.”
I blink up at him. His eyes are so serious. So stubborn.
My breath catches.
“Why do you always try to protect me?”
He meets my gaze. “Because I can’t not.”
---
JAY
This is torture.
Not because of the cold. Not because of the pain in my arm or the dead silence of the night.
But because she’s curled up against me, breathing soft and slow, and I can’t stop thinking about her lips.
I shouldn't. She’s the kind of girl who lives in mansions and takes ballet and gets into Ivy Leagues without trying.
I’m just the guy everyone thinks is temporary. The one nobody ever roots for. The one her dad would probably call a mistake.
But here, in this wreck, under this frozen sky… she’s mine.
Even if it's just for tonight.
She stirs. “Jay?”
“Yeah?”
“I lied.”
That makes me sit up, heart pounding. “What?”
She doesn’t look at me. “Back before we left. When I said I wasn’t scared of flying.”
A beat.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” I chuckle softly.
“No. I’m just… trying to be honest.”
I wait.
“I’m scared of a lot of things,” she says. “What people think. My parents. You finding out things I’ve done.”
My throat tightens.
“What things?”
She shakes her head, and the silence between us grows heavier.
But then she whispers, “If we make it out of this… there’s stuff I need to tell you.”
“Then we’re making it out,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers.
Because I need to know.
Even if it breaks me.
