Chapter Nine
ASPEN
What was it with this guy and saying the most absurd things she had ever heard?
He couldn’t be serious, could he? She settled next to him on the cold bench, unrolling one of the homemade fruit roll-ups this time, trying her best to keep her eating noises to a minimum.
Her ex used to tease her about making the most annoying sounds when she enjoyed food, and for a brief moment, while savoring the most delicious granola bar she’d ever eaten, she had forgotten. But it didn’t take long to remember.
But seriously—he had made all of these snacks? That was impressive. They were so good, he could probably make a fortune selling them. She finished the fruit roll-up, stuffed the trash into her jacket zipper along with the granola bar wrappers, and took a sip from her water.
“Want another one? I have plenty.”
She heard the plastic bag unzip and hesitated before pulling out another granola bar.
“Thanks. These are seriously good.” She bit into the gooey bar, fighting back the little hums of appreciation as the flavors of honey, vanilla, and something she couldn’t quite place washed over her tongue.
“You know, I was joking when I mentioned you should open a little hot cocoa stand last night, but I’m not joking now when I say you could make a pretty penny selling these.
” She heard his backpack zip shut, and the smell of something chocolatey and minty reached her, the nostalgia of last night washing over her once again.
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks, Aspen.” He shined his flashlight on his face and gave her a little wink before setting it down.
“I only have the one cup from my thermos, but I’d be happy to share my hot cocoa with you.
Not out of the same cup or anything—I can drink straight from the thermos after I pour some for you.
Unless… you have a cup? Wait, why would you have a cup?
That makes no sense. I… uh… do you want some hot cocoa? ”
She heard him take a deep breath and release it with a sigh that ended in a kind of grunt.
She wanted to tease him so badly for his jumbled words, but… could she? She reached for the flashlight resting on the bench between them, lifted it, and watched the beam shine up into the night sky.
“What doesn’t make sense? Doesn’t everyone carry an extra mug in their backpack?
Because I know I do. It makes total sense.
” She bit her lip to keep from smiling, straightened her expression into seriousness, then pointed the flashlight at her face and then at his, finally covering her mouth with one hand to stifle a laugh at the look of confusion on his face.
“Whhh… aaa??” His voice squeaked, and she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer, shining the flashlight on his face again as it morphed from confusion into understanding.
“Of course you’re messing with me. Fine.
I won’t share my delicious hot cocoa with you then.
” He replaced the cap on the thermos, and another warm scent of cocoa drifted toward her, making her mouth water.
The cocoa from last night had been delightful, and curiosity about this batch escaped in the next words she blurted out.
“I would love to share your cocoa with you.” Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she quickly shut off the flashlight, setting it back on the bench between them.
Covering her warm cheeks with her wind-chilled hands, she heard the click of the flashlight before the light settled on her face once more.
Without a word of teasing, he said, “Would you mind holding this for me while I pour you some?” He handed her the flashlight, then carefully poured a cup of the warm cocoa and offered it to her with a smile.
She reached out to take it, their fingers brushing, the warmth of the cup and his touch sending goosebumps up her arm and lifting the hairs on her neck.
She ignored her body’s reaction, brought the drink to her lips, and blew gently on the liquid before taking a careful, loud slurp to avoid burning her tongue.
Yet another thing her ex would constantly complain to her about.
One good thing about being a snowboarder was that Aspen was quick to correct mistakes.
She had to be if she wanted to improve her tricks.
So when her ex had complained about certain traits of hers, it only took a couple of tries for her to adjust. She carefully took another sip of the warm, chocolatey, peppermint drink, mindful not to slurp, letting the flavors wash over her tongue.
Like last night, it transported her back in time—the scent of peppermint candy canes lingering in the air as her family would hang them on the tree.
Her dad would lift her high so she could reach the upper branches, spinning her around the tree as she giggled, while her mom handed her the canes to place carefully among the greenery.
She took another sip, but the memories quickly faded as she remembered where she was and who she was with.
“Do you like it? It’s a different recipe from last night. You’re the first to try it.” His voice carried a hint of anxiety.
“It’s really good. I’m not sure which one I like better.” She tried to keep her tone light, but the memories from before crowded her thoughts as she sipped.
“You sure? Your voice says otherwise.” His words were laced with disappointment as she finished the last bit and handed the mug back.
“No. I really like it. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off as she debated whether to say more.
“Come on, Aspen. If you’re going to say something, just say it already.” He teased, borrowing the exact words she had used on him earlier.
“My mom loved Christmas and everything that came with it—including hot chocolate. She would make some every year, and we’d drink it together as a family.
Until… well… she died. Okay. My mom died, and I don’t like Christmas anymore.
Or anything to do with it. So now you know.
” She stood quickly from the bench, her knee locking up as she moved.
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, rubbing the area to warm it up.
“You okay?” A hand reached out in the darkness, settling on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah. I just don’t like talking about that stuff, and my knee tends to lock up when I get up too quickly after sitting for a while.
I’ll be fine. You go do your tour guide thing—I’ll just watch the sunrise over here.
” She folded her arms, hugging them against her body, feeling vulnerable after sharing that part of herself with him.
Her ex didn’t like to talk about feelings.
He always said they were something she should take to a therapist and that telling him about them was just a waste of time, since he couldn't do anything about it.
His hand stayed on her shoulder as he called out to the tourists, “Five minutes, everyone. My two other guides have placed red markers on the ground—they’re the best spots for photos, and the guides will be happy to take pictures for you.
My friends, who are heading down the mountain after sunrise with me on our backcountry drop, need a little guidance at the access point, so I’ll be helping them prepare for that.
” He kept his hand on her shoulder and guided her to a quieter area away from the rest of the group, lowering his voice to a whisper as he spoke his next words.
“Nah. You shouldn’t watch it alone. I have a better idea.
You see, I always save the best spot for myself.
Some might call it selfish, but I call it reserving my favorite place and not wanting to share it with the world.
But if it brings you a little happiness—enough to replace the sadness you’re feeling right now—I’ll gladly share it with you. ”
She fought to keep her tears at bay as he guided her, his hand still resting on her shoulder, to a secluded spot behind some trees. They waited in silence as the sun slowly rose over the valley below.
Aspen didn’t cry. She had trained herself not to. Feelings were vulnerable. They made you weak in the eyes of others, and Aspen never wanted to appear weak. She was a professional snowboarder, for goodness’ sake.
But there, in that breathtaking place, surrounded by sparkling untouched snow, the warmth of the sun on her face, and the gentle weight of a hand on her shoulder, she let the tears roll down silently as they watched the sun climb into the sky.
As she stood there, her soul bared raw to this person she barely knew, she realized he hadn’t complained about her humming, hadn’t said a word about her slurping, and was now standing beside her, offering the quiet comfort of a stranger as she mourned her mom, her lost memories, and all the pent-up feelings she could never share.
Impulsively, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly, her ear pressed to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
His arms found her in return, gentle yet firm, as the sun rose fully into the sky.
She didn’t want to think about what she was doing.
For now, she would simply let herself feel the comfort she had been missing for so long—in the arms of a stranger.