"Is it? Because it taught me the same lesson you learned from Ethan, that people leave. That some things don't last." I step closer, relieved when she doesn't back away this time. "The difference is, I'm willing to try anyway. You're so scared of getting hurt again that you're sabotaging us before we’ve even had a chance."
"I'm not sabotaging anything," she protests, but there's less conviction in her voice. "I'm trying to be realistic."
"No, you're being paranoid. You're so focused on how this might end that you're missing what's happening right now." I reach for her hand, half-expecting her to pull away. She doesn't. "I'm right here, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere."
Her fingers are cold in mine, but they curl around my hand instinctively. "You can't promise that."
"You're right. I can't promise forever. Nobody can. But I can promise you that what I feel for you is real." I tug her slightly closer. "And I think what you feel for me is real too. Otherwise, you wouldn't be out here freaking out about it."
"I'm not freaking out." She pouts.
"You literally ran into the woods to escape your feelings. I'd call that freaking out."
"I needed to think."
"Think or overthink?" I brush a strand of hair from her face. "Look, I get it. This whole thing started backwards. Fake relationship first, real feelings second. But does it really matter how we got here if where we ended up is good?"
She's quiet for a moment, searching my face. "What about when we go back? When we're working together again?"
"Then we figure it out, day by day, like any other couple." I step closer until there's barely a breath between us. "I don't need an audience to want to be with you, Shortcake. I just need you."
She closes her eyes briefly, and I can almost see her mind racing, weighing options, calculating risks.
"I'm scared," she finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I know. Me too." I lift her chin with my finger. "But I'm more scared of walking away from this—from you—than I am of trying and failing."
The silence stretches between us, filled only by the soft sound of our breathing and the distant call of a bird. Snow begins to fall gently around us, tiny flakes landing in her hairlike stars.
"So," I finally say, "are you done overthinking this yet? Because it's freezing out here, and I can think of much warmer ways to spend the afternoon."
That gets me a genuine laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners the way I love. "You're impossible."
"I prefer persistent.'"
She shakes her head, but she's smiling now. "Fine. I'll try to stop sabotaging us. But I make no promises about overthinking."
"I'll take it." I pull her into my arms, feeling her relax against me. "One day at a time, Shortcake. That's all I'm asking for."
She looks up at me, snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes. "One day at a time," she agrees softly.
Chapter thirty
Charlie
I trudge through the snow next to Bash, Emily a few paces ahead, practically bouncing with excitement. After our heart-to-heart in the woods earlier, something has shifted between us.
"Snowmobiling was a brilliant idea," I say, bumping my shoulder against Bash's. "My ass needs a break from falling on it."
"I was rather enjoying watching your ass, though." His eyes crinkle with mischief.
"Of course you were." I roll my eyes with a smile
Emily spins around, walking backward. "The rental place is supposed to be just around this corner. I can't believe we've never done this before."
"Dad always said snowmobiles were for tourists," I remind her.
"Well, today we're tourists," Emily declares. "Tourists who are going to haul ass through powder at forty miles per hour."
