Chapter 20 #2
"I guess this means you win," I say when I can catch my breath.
His smile softens. "I wasn't actually racing you at that point. I was too busy watching you."
The way he says it makes my cheeks flush hotter than the exertion already has.
"You two alright?" Mack calls, skiing expertly down to us. "That was quite a tumble."
"I'm fine," I assure him, struggling to stand up. Snow cascades from every fold of my clothing. "Just showcasing my spectacular talent for eating snow."
Bash extends a hand to help me up, but doesn't let go once I'm standing. His thumb brushes across my knuckles, and even through our gloves, I feel that small point of contact like a brand.
"So about that kiss," Bash says, his voice dipping lower.
My heart skips a beat as his gaze drops to my lips. The mountain air suddenly feels thinner than it should at this altitude.
"Technically, I never reached the finish line," I point out, my voice embarrassingly breathless. "So did you really win?"
He steps closer, snow crunching beneath his boots. "Are you trying to lawyer your way out of our bet, Shortcake?"
The nickname sends a flutter through my chest. I'm acutely aware of Mack collecting my scattered gear a discreet distance away, giving us privacy while pretending not to notice the tension crackling between us.
"I'm just saying, the rules weren't clear," I continue, even as I find myself leaning slightly towards him. "What constitutes winning if neither of us crossed the finish line?"
His lips quirk up on one side. "The fact that I'm standing and you're wearing half the mountain should count for something."
I laugh despite myself, brushing snow from my shoulders. "Fine. You win on a technicality."
"I'll take it." His smile turns serious as he steps closer. One gloved hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face. "But I'm not collecting that prize unless you want me to."
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. This isn't part of our act—there's no audience here, no one to perform for except Mack, who could care less. This is just us, standing in the snow, with something real and terrifying building between us.
I swallow hard, trying to remember all the reasons this is a bad idea. But with him looking at me like I'm his everything.
"I want you to," I whisper.
His smile is slow and achingly sweet as he cradles my face in his hands. When his lips touch mine, they're surprisingly warm against the cold mountain air. The kiss is gentle, questioning, but I press myself closer, and as soon as I do his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against him.
I taste coffee, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm not overthinking, not planning three steps ahead. I'm just here, present in this perfect moment, kissing my fake boyfriend in the middle of a pristine mountainside like we have all the time in the world.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing harder than our run down the mountain warranted.
Bash clears his throat. "Well," he whispers, his eyes searching mine.
"Mmhmm," I agree, unable to find better words.
The sound of helicopter blades in the distance breaks the spell. We step apart, and his hand drops from my waist and finds my hand, squeezing gently.
"Thank you for today," he says. "Best day I've had in...a long time."
I smile, my heart full. "Me too."
The helicopter appears over the ridge, circling to land in our clearing. As we gather our gear to board, Bash pulls me close for one more quick kiss.
"For the record," he says against my ear, "I think you let me win."
I laugh, shoving him playfully.
As we climb into the helicopter, I can't help thinking that maybe I did let him win. Because deep down, I wanted that kiss as much as he did.
And that terrifies me.
The ride back in the helicopter is quieter, both of us lost in our own thoughts, though Bash keeps finding reasons to touch me—a hand on my knee, fingers brushing mine, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Each contact sends a current through me.
We land back at the Aspen airport just as the sun is starting it's set. After thanking Mack and returning our rental gear, Bash checks his phone.
"Sarah just texted. They just left, and should be here in about forty-five minutes."
Reality crashes back. His sister. His niece. Our fake relationship just got a whole lot more complicated.
"Okay then we should head back," I say, suddenly nervous. "And I should probably change."
Bash smiles, taking my hand as we walk to where we parked the jeep. "Relax. They're going to love you."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I—" He stops himself, clearing his throat. "Because you're you. And you're pretty lovable, Shortcake."
He holds the jeep door open with a flourish, his lips quirking up at the corner as I slide past him.
My seat belt clicks into place as I curl my arms around my middle, knees hugging close.
He climbs into the driver's side, and cranks the engine awake. For what feels like an eternity, the heater starts blasting hot air against my frozen fingers, but it doesn’t touch the jittery heat pooling in my chest. Sarah Montgomery.
Bash's sister. His family. Meeting his family—even in the context of this circus-level charade—feels like walking onto a stage I didn’t audition for.
Twenty minutes later and I'm still stare out the windshield as snow flurries blur past. "Tell me more about Addie. How old is she? What's she into?" I finally say.
Bash's face lights up. "She's sixteen. Smart as hell, top of her class. Into skiing, even though I've tried to get her more interested in snowboarding, photography and true crime podcasts, which is a weird combo but somehow works for her. She's got Sarah's bluntness and my dad's laugh."
"She sounds great."
"She is." He glances at me. "Fair warning, though—she doesn't have much of a filter. If she asks something inappropriate, just change the subject to serial killers. Works every time."
I laugh, some of my tension easing. "Noted."
We pull up to the house just as another car is parking—a dark blue SUV with Colorado plates. A tall woman with Bash's chocolate hair steps out, followed by a teenage girl with a camera around her neck.
Bash jumps out of our Jeep, jogging over to sweep his sister into a bear hug that lifts her off her feet. She laughs, smacking his shoulder.
"Put me down, you oaf!"
He does, then turns to Addie, enveloping her in a gentler hug. "Hey, squirt. How's the photography business?"
She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "It's not a business, Uncle Bash. It's art."
"Right, my bad." He turns, his hand beckoning me forward. "I want you both to meet someone."
My feet carry me over while my pulse thunders in my ears.
"Sarah, Addie, this is Charlie." His voice lifts with an unmistakable note of pride that sends butterflies swirling through my stomach. "Charlie, my sister Sarah and my niece Addie."
Sarah's piercing blue eyes—mirror images of Bash's—scan me from head to toe. "So you're the reason my brother's been ignoring my calls."
My mouth opens to stammer an apology when her serious expression cracks. "And it's about time he found someone worth ignoring me for." She closes the distance and gives me an unexpectedly tight hug.
A wave of relief washes over me. "It's really nice to meet you." I smile.
Addie steps forward, camera already raised to her eye. "Can I take your picture? Uncle Bash never brings girls to meet us. This is, like, historic."
Bash's groan rumbles beside me. "Addie, boundaries."
"What? It's true."
A genuine laugh escapes me, the tension in my shoulders melting. "Sure, you can take my picture."
The camera clicks several times before she lowers it, her gaze dissecting me. "You're pretty. And you look smart. Are you smart?"
"Addie!" Sarah and Bash scold in harmony.
"I'd like to think so," I reply, charmed by her bulldozer directness.
She gives a satisfied nod. "Good. Uncle Bash needs someone smart. Most of the girls he's dated had the IQ of a potato."
Bash's face disappears behind his hands. "And we're done here. Let's go inside before you ruin any chance I have with this woman."
Sarah laughs, linking her arm through mine as we head toward the house. "Don't mind my daughter. But she's right—you are the first. Bash has never introduced us to anyone he's dating."
The weight of her words settles over me. This isn't just about putting on a show for my ex. There's something more happening here, something real and fragile and terrifying.
As we reach the porch, I glance back at Bash, who's carrying their bags and listening to something Addie is telling him. He catches my eye and smiles—a smile so genuine it makes my chest ache.
What have I gotten myself into? This was supposed to be simple. Pretend to date, make Ethan jealous, get through the vacation.
But standing here, about to introduce Bash's family to mine, with the memory of his kiss still fresh in my mind, I realize there's nothing simple about this entire situation.