My eyes dart to our hands. “Still okay.” I shift my fingers, sliding them between his. My only regret, the thin layer of glove between our naked flesh.
He levels his simmering gaze on me. “When you’re ready—and if you’re okay with it—I want you to look up.”
“Look up?” My head tilts back, and pure wonder escapes my lips. “Austin, this… this is beautiful!”
Overhead, the sky is black velvet, glittering diamonds strewn across its surface. I’ve never seen anything like it. “The Milky Way. The Big Dipper. Even the Little Dipper.” They grow in clarity as we lumber farther from the gondola station, dusk giving way to a stunningly clear night.
“Pretty, aren’t they?” But he’s not looking up as he says it. His eyes are fixed on me.
My throat tightens, heart a marimba behind my ribs.
“Tell me more about why you chose this,” I say. My voice cracks as the cold of night wraps around us. Dark. Intimate. Quiet in the best way.
Austin shrugs. “Up here, nothing’s chasing you. Thought you might like that.”
The heat of his hand—his earthy cologne—wraps around me, inspiring boldness. I peer down, mouth gaping at the sight below. Moonlight shimmers across the breast of new-fallen snow, dark swathes of green forest like geometric artwork, fracturing the pristine powder.
My eyes blur. Not because of Trevor or anything that happened earlier. But because of the steady man seated quietly beside me, like a rock. A foundation.
I never want this to end—fingers clasped, breaths moving in time. It feels like so much more. My heart tugs, grief giving way to regret.
“I wish I’d known this kind of quiet existed sooner,” I say softly. “And that it wasn’t something to fear.”
Heat rushes my cheeks the second the words leave my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I add too quickly. “Forget I said that.”
“Everything happens for a reason,” he says darkly, shifting in his seat for a better view. I can’t tell if he believes it, or he’s paving the way for our inevitable goodbye.
After all, this can’t last. Right?
He rests our hands atop his knee, like it’s more comfortable. Maybe that’s all. But my body’s on fire so close to this man.
It confuses and shames me. So soon after everything that happened.
Maybe some part of me still sees things the way Trevor said they were.
Or maybe I’ve already wasted far too much time.
Maybe it’s time fordifferent.
Austin murmurs, as if reading my mind, “May not be the right time for this. Don’t know if I’ll have another chance, though.”
My breath freezes in my chest.
“I care about you, Allie.”
I wet my lips, heart thudding in my ears.Did I hear him right?
“I don’t expect anything. Won’t chase or pressure you. Butthis.” He squeezes my hand, face warm and open as he stares at me. “ThisI want more of.”
A grin captures my lips. Silly, schoolgirlish, but I can’t help it.
He side-eyes me warmly, corners of his mouth almost tipping up.
“What would you say if I wanted to choose quiet for a little while longer?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t say anything.” The words are what I need as I snuggle closer to the big man despite the heater humming softly in the background, pointing out constellations and living, breathing the moment.
No past, no future.
