She makes the turn without reaching for me. Then another, and another. I stay just behind her, close enough to intervene, far enough to let her own it.
Finally, she reaches the bottom just before me. She plants her edges and it's a clean stop.
She looks down at her skis and then back up at me. Her jaw dropped, her eyes wide. She lifts up her goggles, then so do I as she stares back at me, and I swear she hasn’t taken a breath yet.
"You did it," I say.
"I did it!" she yells, and before I can brace, she drops her poles, kicks out of her skis like she forgot how physics works, and launches herself at me.
"I can’t believe I just did that."
Her laugh explodes out of her — bright, shocked, almost disbelieving.
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders. My hands catch her at the waist automatically, lifting her clean off the snow as she laughs against my neck.
"You weren’t lying. You’re the best teacher."
Her body is warm against mine despite the layers. Her breath is hot where it hits my skin. My hands tightened without permission.
And then we’re face-to-face with no tinted lenses or snow between us anymore.
Our eyes locked, both of us holding onto each other, neither letting go. The adrenaline is burning hot right under the surface.
Her smile falters first, and I watch the shift happen in real time.
Her breath catches. Her lips part.
I don’t move. I don’t pull her closer. But I sure as hell have no intention of letting her go.
Then she rises to her toes and I bend without thinking, meeting her in the middle until her warm lips hit mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle or planned. It’s hot and cold and everything we’ve been pretending isn’t happening.
Her fingers slide into my jacket like she’s anchoring herself. My hand splayed at her lower back. Her lips parting against mine, and I’m just about to slide my tongue against her lower lip to ask for access, when someone yells, "Get a room."
She’s the one who jerks back first.
"Oh God." She steps out of my arms so fast she nearly loses her footing as she back peddles away from me faster than I’m comfortable with. "I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that."
"Natalia—" I say, taking a step towards her, my hand outstretched, hoping she’ll take it, but she doesn’t
"No. That was completely unprofessional. I don’t—I don’t know what came over me," she says, her fingers touching her forehead. "Just… pretend that didn’t happen, okay." She says and then spins around and bends to pick up her skis.
I take another step closer, trying not to startle her. She scares easily. "Will you just stop and talk to me? Please?" I ask.
She won’t look at me as she pulls her skis out for the snow. She spins back to look at me one last time. "I really need to go."
"Hold on for a minute and talk to me."
But she doesn’t. She walks faster. Too fast for someone in ski boots.
"That was a mistake. Just forget it," she calls over her shoulder.
The sting of her words hit. She called it a mistake. That’s what kissing me was to her.
I don’t follow. I just stood there in the quiet, snow falling lightly around me, her figure becoming smaller and smaller as she hightailed it away from me and what had just happened.
My heart pounded harder than it did on the black diamond run.
