“It looks better on you.” He winks.
I flush. The hat smells faintly of his shampoo. He goes into team leader mode and soon has us set up with brooms. “I’ll push.” We all agree quickly because none of us are as strong as he is. “Olivia and Marcus you’re on brooms. Evelyn, you’re catching her if she heads for that snow bank, and Bailey, you’re our rock.”
“I’m a rock?” I ask incredulously.
He puts his arm around me and I’m overwhelmed by his nearness. My heart thunders in my ears and I’m afraid I won’t hear his explanation of what I’m supposed to do. Maybe he’s been holding back up to this point because I feel like he’s releasing the floodgates of his attention and—gulp—attraction to me in this one moment. I’m not ready. My mouth is dry and I may pass out. Stupid breath is puffing out around me, showing the whole world that Logan makes me hyperventilate. Let me just fall in a snowbank right now and not come out until spring.
My reaction is so strange. I mean, I didn’t get this way about my ex at all. When I first met him, I was flattered by his attention. He was the top designer at the design house where we worked. I felt special because he noticed me. Over time, I think I became addicted to that feeling. I felt like I had to earn it from him, and when he wasn’t praising me, I felt like a heap of washed-up garbage.
And that didn’t feel anything as good as the way my stomach swoops out from under me when Logan grins at me. I have no idea what a drop from this height will do to me. I must be glutton for punishment, because I want to find out.
“This is your sled.” He picks up a child-sized red disc-like sled that looks like a dinner plate in his large hands. You sit on here and I’ll push you across the ice. The team who gets closest to the target wins.” He leans down over my shoulder and points to the red target painted on the ice, making me turn that direction to see what he’s pointing at. I would turn in circles if he wanted me to. I’m so struck by him that my brain is useless. “These two will sweep in front of you to keep you going.”
“That sounds safe,” I grumble.
“It’s safe-ish.” He puts his chin on my shoulder from behind me. He’s super friendly today and I like it. I like it when he’s close. It’s a heady mixture of danger and pleasure. Danger, because I don’t trust myself to pick a good man and because if I did pick him and he didn’t pick me, I’d be devastated.
“Keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times,” he teases me in an announcer voice.
I chuckle. “Easy for you to say.” It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching up and cupping the back of his head to keep him there.
“Come on you two!” calls Marcus. He has a broom in one hand and a fiercely determined look on his face.
We hurry to line up. I have to sit criss-cross on the disc. The lady next to me is curled in a ball, her arms over her head for protection. “Should I do that?” I ask Logan, who is lining up behind me to start pushing.
“Just hold on to your legs so they don’t fly out,” he replies.
Someone on the other side of us tells his teammate. “I’m going to throw you so hard you’ll end up in the next county.”
“Bring it on,” replies the woman on the disc.
My mind saysThese people are crazy. I look down at my legs tucked under me.And now I’m one of them.
“On your mark!” yells the announcer.
I wrap my arms around my legs and hold on tight.
“Get set!”
Olivia and Marcus set their brooms on the ice. My stomach drops out.
“Logan. I don’t do this kind of thing. I play it safe. I don’t know what came over me and I want off.”
Logan scoffs. “I’ve seen your designs—you are a risk taker, Bailey.”
I gasp. His words speak to a part of myself that I haven’t been able to reach, and they bloom like flowers in the snow. I do like to push the envelope in design, and I used to do it with fashion and flavors and all sorts of things. I’d been stripped of those parts of me and in one comment, Logan brought them all up before my eyes for me to remember and reconsider. They were still there, the only outlet those parts of me have is design—and even then, I continually question their existence.
Do I want to be that person again? I could reach out and grab onto her and pull her to me.
“Go!”
“Ahhh!” I scream as Logan digs in his toes, pushing me, and then I’m flying across the ice. My scream fades, and all I hear is the wind rushing by me. It’s freedom and fun and awesome. I want to throw my arms out wide and let the world come at me. I don’t because I also want to win this. Not just for me—because I could use a win—but for Logan who saw parts of me that I thought were long gone.
Olivia and Marcus work furiously to sweep ahead of me, but they’re losing ground because I’m moving faster than they do. The target, that seemed so far away only a moment ago, is coming up fast. I’m going to have to slow down if I’m going to be the closest. I glance over my shoulder to check on the other fliers. Several of them have already stopped. They’re watching me, hoping I’ll overshoot the target.
I lean back on my pockets and put my feet out in front of me. I keep them flat, hoping for just enough friction that I’ll stop on the target.
I run right over the top of it. “Silver bells!” I curse. When I stop, I spin around to see that I’m not closest, that’s Axel’s team. But I’m a close second and we’re still awarded points. I jump up, my hands raised over my head in celebration.
