Meghan’s P.O.V.
As we pulled up in front of my house, the quiet hum of the engine filled the car, punctuated only by Blade’s occasional glance my way. The snow-dusted driveway looked even slicker than it had earlier, and I immediately regretted not spreading more salt.
Blade put the car in park and turned to me with a grin that spelled trouble.
“Well, here we are. Date done. You survived.”
I rolled her eyes, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“Barely. Between the ice skating and your constant chatter, it’s a miracle.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, sweetheart,” he teased, leaning an arm on the steering wheel to face me fully.
“And don’t think I’m letting you go in there alone.”
I groaned internally. Because I had seen this coming from a mile away.
“Blade, it’s late. The date’s over
