I’m so hard. I want her so much. But even with my guard down because of good wine, I know it’s too soon.
I take off my shoes and my clothes as she watches. When I’m down to my boxers, I climb into her bed.
She hesitates, then joins me. Slides in next to me under the down duvet, then turns off the light.
We don’t touch.
Minutes pass.
Then my fingers brush hers.
She doesn’tsay anything.
Neither do I.
We settle into each other,slowly, like we fit.
I fall asleep with her breath in my ear, her rosemary tucked beneath her pillow, and a single, impossible hope beating loudly in my chest.
CHAPTER 25
Ember
The snow is coming down in lazy, swirling flakes as I clip into my cross-country skis. The air is crisp and sharp, almost predatory.
The sky is taking on a strange, purple-gray cast that makes Papa frown and pull out his phone to check the weather app as he follows me out.
“La tempête arrive, bébé.”
A stormissupposed to pass throughlater, but I’ve been skiing these trails since I was a kid. I know the turns and dips like I know the calluses on my palms.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No slopes,” he insists.
“No slopes,” I agree.
I’ve barely been walking the trail for a minute when I hear a shout.
“Where are you going?”
I turn, startled, to see Ransom jogging up the path,skis slung over his shoulder. His bruise from Aksel’s fist is a greenish smudge now, and he looks too handsome in his dark jacket, with his wool hat pushed back.
I slept the night with him. Thewholenight. We were tangled up with one another when we woke up.
It’s messing with my head.
I need air.
Alone.
“Solo ski,” I snap.
“I’m coming with you.”
I raise a brow. “You’re not a cross-country guy.”
“I’m a ‘keep you from getting caught in a storm alone’guy.”
