Exposed on Ice

Chapter 2

Sienna Cross

There are two types of bad days.

The first kind is manageable. Annoying, inconvenient, the kind where you spill coffee on your shirt or forget to reply to an email and feel mildly guilty about it for the rest of the day.

The second kind?

The kind where your car starts making a sound that can only be described as mechanical death… in the middle of traffic… at night… with your two-month-old baby in the backseat.

Yeah.

I’m having the second kind.

“Okay,” I murmur, gripping the steering wheel like that’s somehow going to help. “Okay, okay, okay… don’t panic.”

The car jerks.

A horrible grinding noise follows.

And then—

Smoke.

Actual smoke.

“Cool,” I whisper. “That’s… that’s definitely a good sign.”

It is not a good sign.

At all.

I manage to wrestle the car to the side of the road, heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My hands are shaking as I throw it into park, staring at the hood like it personally betrayed me.

“Fantastic,” I mutter.

From the backseat, a soft, unimpressed baby noise follows.

I twist around instantly.

“It’s okay, Oliver,” I say quickly, forcing calm into my voice even though I’m about two seconds away from losing it. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

He blinks up at me like he absolutely does not believe that.

Honestly?

Same.

I reach back to gently touch his tiny hand, grounding myself for a second. He’s warm, safe, strapped in properly. That’s what matters.

Everything else?

We’ll figure it out.

I pull my phone out of my bag and call Caleb.

Once.

Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

Of course.

“Great,” I sigh, dropping my head back against the seat for half a second before sitting up again. “Love that for me.”

He’s probably already at the charity event. Loud music, teammates, chaos—his phone might as well not exist.

I scroll through my contacts, brain moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time.

Tow truck?

Cab?

Uber?

All options.

All slightly terrifying with a baby.

I chew on my lip, staring at the screen.

Then my eyes land on a name I definitely shouldn’t be considering.

Ronan Vale.

I pause.

Stare at it.

Consider my life choices.

Because no.

Absolutely not.

That man is walking trouble wrapped in arrogance and bad decisions. He’s charming in a way that feels dangerous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and enjoys every second of it.

And he’s Caleb’s teammate.

Which makes him off-limits.

Very off-limits.

I haven’t even spoken to him properly before. Just a few passing moments—quick conversations, polite nods, the occasional

“hi” when I’ve been around the team.

That’s it.

So why is his name still lighting up my screen like a terrible idea?

Oliver makes another small noise behind me.

I close my eyes briefly.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “This is not about pride. This is about survival.”

Also possibly not getting stranded on the side of the road with a baby.

So.

Great.

Love that for me.

I open the message.

Hesitate.

Then type.

Hey… sorry. I didn’t know who else to message. Caleb’s not picking up.

I stare at the words.

Cringe a little.

Too late now.

I hit send.

Immediately regret everything.

“Perfect,” I mutter. “Now he thinks I’m desperate.”

Which—okay—I am, but that’s not the point.

I quickly type another message.

My car broke down. I’m on the side of the road and it’s making a weird noise. I think it’s bad.

I hover over the phone.

Wait.

One second.

Two.

Three—

It buzzes.

I jump.

Ronan: Where are you?

I blink.

That was… fast.

Like, very fast.

I type back quickly, giving him the location.

Another reply comes almost instantly.

Ronan: I’m coming.

I stare at the screen.

That’s it?

No questions?

No hesitation?

Just—

I’m coming.

Something in my chest does a weird little flip I don’t have time to analyze.

“Okay,” I whisper, exhaling slowly. “Okay, that’s… good.”

Oliver lets out a small fuss, and I immediately turn back to him, unbuckling my seatbelt.

“I know, baby,” I murmur, climbing into the backseat with him. “Not exactly how I planned tonight either.”

I carefully lift him into my arms, holding him close as I rock slightly, trying to soothe both of us.

His tiny fingers curl into my shirt.

And just like that—

Everything else fades.

The stress.

The panic.

The stupid, broken car.

“You’re okay,” I whisper against his soft hair. “That’s all that matters.”

A car speeds past, making the whole vehicle shake slightly, and my grip tightens instinctively.

God.

I hate this.

I hate feeling stuck.

I hate relying on people.

I hate that the one person I could get ahold of is—

No.

Not finishing that thought.

Because this is temporary.

He’s just giving us a ride.

That’s it.

Nothing more.

Definitely nothing complicated.

Except…

Ronan Vale doesn’t feel like the kind of man who does anything simply.

And that?

That might be a problem.

_____________

ICEWIRE // LIVE DROP

Timestamp: 8:42 PM

Stranded isn’t always accidental.

Funny how the right people show up at the right time.

Or maybe… it’s exactly where they were meant to be.

#IceWire #WolvesExposed