I dug in my heel as best as I could, yanked my sled toward hers, and reached out. Our sleds collided with a hollow crack of plastic. Her sled spun, twirling sideways. Clara let out a startled shriek that dissolved into laughter even as she tipped.
My good leg braced. My prosthetic held. My arm hooked around her waist on pure muscle memory.
We toppled over.
Snow exploded around us in a spray of white. My back hit the drift first, the impact cushioned by a thick layer of powder. Cold shot up my spine. The plastic sled dug into my side. A grunt punched out of me as my lungs tried to catch up.
Then there was weight.
Clara landed half on top of me, half against my chest, all warm limbs and cold gear and the familiar clatter of cheap plastic sleds knocking together. Her knee slotted between my thighs. Her gloved hands fumbled against my jacket, fingers bunching in the fabric. The world shuddered, then stilled, everything going oddly quiet under the thick winter air.
My arm was still around her waist, holding her tight to me from where I’d grabbed her. Her body fit along mine, soft and solid in all the ways that rewrote my understanding of gravity. Snow dusted her hat and the curve of her cheekbone, a few flakes caught in her lashes like glitter that hadn’t finished falling.
She blinked down at me, breath puffing against my mouth, our noses almost brushing.
“Jesus,” I breathed, pulse slamming so hard it felt like it shook the snow beneath us.
Her thighs tightened around my hip as she caught herself. The shift dragged her over the hard line pressing against my fly, and a flash of helpless arousal shot through me so fast it stole my breath. Every nerve I had zeroed in on where her body pressed into mine, cataloging heat and weight and the impossible fact that she was here, on top of me, laughing and alive and not flinching.
Her gaze flicked down, catching on my mouth for one raw, naked second.
The temperature between us changed.
The laughter in her eyes went molten, something darker and softer bleeding in at the edges. Her hand on my chest tightened, glove creaking as she fisted the front of my jacket like she wasn’t sure whether she meant to push me away or pull me closer.
The snow around us seemed to fall quieter. The whole world narrowed to the four inches of air between our mouths.
I could feel her breath ghost against my lower lip—warm and quick. Her nose brushed mine on a tiny exhale, an accidental nudge that knocked something loose in my chest.
We went utterly still.
Her face was right there, framed in light and snow and flushed skin, her lips parted on a breath she hadn’t finished taking. My fingers flexed at her waist, thumb digging into the thick fabric of her coat, like I needed to convince myself she wasreal and not something my lonely, broken brain had conjured up on a hill.
There was nowhere to look but at her.
Nowhere to go but forward.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
We just stared, both of us breathing hard, the slope and the pines and the whole frozen world dropping away until there was nothing but her face hovering over mine.
Her mouth curved, breathless and bright. “You didn’t die or lose another limb,” she said with a laugh, voice soft and shaky. “Congrats.”
“Yet,” I managed, but it came out rough, more gravel than a joke.
She huffed another laugh, shoulders shaking. Then, before my brain could catch up, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
It was quick, clumsy—half a peck and half a victory stamp. Her lips were hot against my cold skin, soft and sure, the press lingering just long enough to burn.
My lungs forgot how to function.
She pulled back an inch, eyes wide like she’d surprised herself too. We were still close enough that her breath slid over my mouth, warm in the freezing air. Something low inside me snapped the fragile leash I’d been holding on myself since the day she walked through my front door with her suitcases and that damn diamond ring.
My hand moved before my good sense could.
Fingers slid up into the loose hair at the nape of her neck, the glove rough against silk-soft strands. I felt the small, startled shiver run through her when my palm settled there, thumb brushing the warm line of her skin just under the edge of her hat.
She froze—then didn’t move away.
