Bash takes the bracelet and fastens it around my wrist. "I had it made after our heli-skiing trip," he explains. "I wanted something to remind you of our first real day together—not the night we met, but the day we started to become... us." He whispers.
The bracelet catches the firelight, sending tiny prisms dancing across my skin. I look up to find my family watching us with varying degrees of emotion—Mom dabbing at her eyes, Dad pretending not to notice, and Emily practically vibrating with delight.
"I think that officially concludes our pre-Christmas Christmas," Dad announces, breaking the moment before it becomes too intense. "Who wants eggnog?"
As my parents and Emily head to the kitchen, Bash pulls me close on our shared chair.
"Did I do okay?" he murmurs against my hair. "With the gifts, I mean. I've never done the whole family Christmas thing before."
I turn to face him, taking in the vulnerability beneath his usual confidence. "You did more than okay. You were perfect." I touch the bracelet on my wrist. "And this... I'll never take it off."
His smile is slow and sweet. "That's the idea, Shortcake." He brushes his lips against mine. "I want to be part of all your adventures."
"Is that a promise?" I ask, only half-joking.
His blue eyes hold mine steadily. "Count on it."
Chapter thirty-seven
Bash
I'm flying down the mountain, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins as the wind blows past. But this time, there's something different—a flash of auburn hair whips ahead of me, moving with unexpected speed. I hear her laugh.
It's our last full day in Aspen, and we've all decided to spend it on the slopes. Emily is somewhere behind me, and I hear her yell "CHEATER!" as if Charlie could cheat by simply being faster than her sister. But that's just my girl being a fucking beast at something she loves doing.
I kick up and race after her, leaning forward to gain momentum, feeling that perfect edge of control and chaos that I've chased my entire life.
"NOT YOU TOO!" Emily's indignant cry echoes behind me, and I can't help laughing as I weave through the powder.
Charlie's silhouette grows larger as I close the distance. She's slowed down significantly, already celebrating what she thinks is her victory.Nope, sorry Shortcake, if you want to win against me, you have to earn it all the way to the finish line.
I whip past her and come sliding to a stop at the bottom of the run, spraying snow in a perfect arc around me. Charlie's hands shoot up in surprise. The look on her face is a mixture of shock, outrage, and reluctant admiration and is worth every second of the chase.
She slides to a stop, pops off her skis with surprising efficiency, and then charges me like a tiny, determined avalanche. I half have an idea what she's goingto do a millisecond before she does it, so I catch her mid-launch and deliberately fall backwards into the snow, cushioning her fall with my body.
We both dissolve into laughter as I feel the snow working its way into my gear, cold and wet against my neck. I don't care though. Charlie's face is inches from mine, her cheeks flushed from exertion and cold,
She kisses me, quick but firm. "Fine, you won... again."
She's still on top of me when Emily comes around the bend, expertly stopping beside our tangled heap in the snow.
"Get a room, you two," she says with an exaggerated eye roll before skiing off toward the lodge.
Charlie looks down at me with that dangerous glint in her eye that I've come to recognize—and crave. "Well, if you would have let me win, that's exactly what we would have been doing right now."
I push up on my elbows, bringing our faces closer together. "You know what? I cheated. I should be disqualified."I brush a strand of hair from her face. "You won fair and square Shortcake."
We laugh again, the sound carrying across the bright white landscape, and it strikes me that I've laughed more in the past week than I have in years. I pop out of my board, and without exchanging a single word, we both have the same thought as we gather our equipment and head toward the rental barn.
The walk is quick, our steps hurried with unspoken anticipation. We drop off our gear, and Charlie is practically bouncing with impatience as the attendant methodically processes our return. Her hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining and her thumb rubbing circles on my palm that sends heat straight through me.
"Looks like you had a good day out there," the rental attendant says, eyeing our flushed faces and snow-dampened clothes.
"The best," Charlie answers, squeezing my hand.
I squeeze back.
The rental attendant hands us our receipt, oblivious to the current beneath our casual words. "Well, enjoy the rest of your stay in Aspen."
