30. Winter
WINTER
I stand by Tristan’s bike, waiting while he swings his leg over and pulls off his gloves. My visor fogs with my breath, so I pop it open, but I don’t move to unclip the helmet. I never do. That’s his thing.
Tristan likes to do it himself, to lift it off like he’s unveiling me. And I like it too, the way he stares down into my eyes with both our visors open, the slow unhooking, his careful hands working the strap loose. It’s ridiculous how something so small can make my chest ache, but it does.
That’s the fun part of being with Tristan.
We both know I can take care of myself. Could I afford the life he gives me?
No, I definitely couldn’t. But I’d manage.
It doesn’t feel oppressive the way he insists on doing everything, even the little stuff.
It feels like care. It feels like love, and I’ve never had that before.
Not this way. It feels weird saying that I’m dating him because it’s so much more than that.
We’ve been building this life, this relationship with one another for the longest time, and really the kissing part is the only thing that’s new.
I blush at the thought and almost flip my own visor shut at how corny I’m being right now.
We do a lot more than just kissing, and I’m so excited to try all the things with this man.
He knows I love it here, and it’s hard not to just try to take everything in all at once.
We’re at the base of the hiking trail by the pond, the one that freezes solid in the winter and turns into Tristan’s favorite place to skate with Hayden and Callum.
This place has become our absolute favorite spot, and it feels like it’s woven into so many memories I share with Madi, Lilac and their guys.
We’re planning to rent a nearby cabin up here for Christmas, and I’m so excited for that.
Callum has mandated that Madi can't have a pink Christmas tree because Christmas should be red and green only. I’m already bracing myself because I’m sure we’re going to have to call the fire department to get Callum out of whatever green and red tree Hayden puts him in.
Last summer we spent a lot of time camping by the pond so we could swim and have a bonfire.
We plan to do that again next summer. I have a lot of great memories with Tristan, but some of my fondest ones are here at this place.
Callum even taught Hayden how to fish, only for Lilac to make them throw every catch back because she didn’t like watching the fish flop around helplessly.
Tristan was team Lilac, threatening to crack Hayden and Callum’s skulls together if they came anywhere near him with live bait again.
The thought makes me smile, warmth spreading through me even as the cool bite of air nips at my skin.
This morning, curled up in bed with Tristan, he’d nuzzled his handsome face into my chest, sleep-heavy and soft, and murmured that we should skip classes.
When he suggested hiking by the pond instead, well, I’d said yes before he’d even finished the sentence.
He kissed me for it, and a few hours later here we are.
And God, this day is already so much better than any day of lectures.
When Tristan is done settling his bike, he walks over to me with that look on his face, the one that says he knows exactly why I waited here all this time with my helmet still on. His smile is small, but it hits me in the chest all the same.
He leans in, fingers steady as he unhooks the strap under my chin, sliding the helmet off like he’s unveiling some precious cargo. He sets it carefully on the bike, hooking it next to his own, and I can already feel his eyes on me.
Tristan’s hand drifts down the length of my braid, slow, deliberate, until his fingers brush the satin pink bow tied at the end. He smiles at it like he can’t help himself before lowering his face to mine, kissing me softly.
When he pulls back, his palms trail over my arms, slow strokes over the fleece I threw on this morning paired with light pink leggings and clean white sneakers.
He’s told me twice that he likes it, so I made a mental note to wear this more often.
It’s white with little pink flowers and green stems scattered across it.
I look him over too. Grey sweatpants, worn soft, and a navy Castlebrook sweatshirt that looks brand new.
His number is stamped big across the back, but his hood is down, hanging loose down his back, covering his last name.
Something about how cozy he looks makes me lean up on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
Tristan holds out his hand, and of course I take it.
His grip is solid as he guides me toward the trail opening.
“This is my favorite,” I say, even though there’s no point.
He already knows. That’s why he brought me to this particular section of the woods.
But I want him to hear it anyway, want him to know how much it means that he remembers these little things about me.
He lifts our linked hands, pressing a kiss to the top of mine, his lips brushing softly over my skin. “I know, baby. This one’s my favorite too.”
The words curl around my heart, and I can’t stop the smile that breaks across my face. I beam at him, and he gives me that look back, the one that makes me feel like I’m the only person in his entire world.
We start walking, the gravel crunching under our sneakers as the tree-lined path opens up around us.
There are harder trails we’ve done before, ones that leave our lungs burning and legs sore, but this one…
this one is special. I love it because at the very top, when you’ve pushed through every twist of the climb, it opens into a view that stretches over the pond.
Tristan isn’t usually like this. He’s quiet and thoughtful most of the time, even when it’s just us.
But as we climb, he keeps talking, pointing out the trees with leaves turning gold and red, the way they scatter across the ground like confetti.
He even mentions a squirrel darting across the path, his mouth twitching into something close to a smile as he watches it disappear into the brush.
I squeeze his hand tighter and glance up at him, searching his face, and say softly, “Are you okay? You’re being very chatty. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving every single minute of it. But squirrel commentary is definitely not you.”
He breathes out, shoulders shifting like something is weighing on him that I don’t know about yet. “Yes, I’m just…” His voice trails, and then he looks away with a small, nervous laugh. God, he’s so fucking beautiful when he smiles like that…teeth showing, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Before I can say anything else, Tristan stops walking and pulls me into his chest. His arms wrap tight around me, and then he’s lifting me right off the ground, holding me up high so he can kiss me.
His mouth claims mine, deep and oh, so hungry.
He breathes me in like I’m the only thing keeping him present, like I’m giving him whatever strength he needs in this moment.
“I love you so much, Winter,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough with conviction. “I’m so glad I get to spend today with you. That’s all. Every day, actually. Can you believe that? I get to be with you every day.”
“Of course you do,” I smile against his mouth, and those are the only words I get out because when he pulls back enough for me to see him, his eyes have changed.
They’ve darkened into something possessive, something completely unhinged.
His grip on me tightens, and I fucking love it.
I love when he has these little spurts where he just has to press his fingers into my skin to remind himself that I’m real and I’m his.
“I want to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life. And I’m just very happy and very content and it’s all because of you,” he rasps.
I smile as he slowly lowers me, sliding me down the length of his body until my feet find the ground again.
My hands come up on instinct, cupping his cheek.
His skin is warm beneath my palm, and I look straight into those dark green eyes when I whisper, “You make me happy too. You always have, you know? I trusted you the very instant I met you, and I still, to this day, have never felt that connection with anyone else.”
Something flickers across his face, whatever it is seems sharp and very unguarded, and then it’s gone.
Tristan tucks me back against him like he can’t stand the thought of me standing even a few inches away from him.
His arm wraps around my waist, the other coming across his body just to grab my hand.
I can’t help smiling. That’s Tristan, always finding another way to keep a piece of me in his hands.
Even though he’s very much an acts of service kind of guy, he constantly needs that physical contact between us.
And I love it. God, I love it. It’s not suffocating, it never has been.
It’s everything I used to wish for, everything I craved, begged the universe for when I just wanted one night of peace with him.
Those nights he was suffering with night terrors or staying awake, refusing to let himself sleep because the memories of hurting me were too much for him to take.
I wanted to be able to just hug him, kiss him, make him forget.
Now we have that. Now we’re free to do whatever we want whenever we want.
And I’m not going to take a single second of it for granted.
If he really, truly wanted to sew me to his chest like he used to threaten to when I was in danger and he was concerned for my safety, I’d let him.
Gladly. Because being that close to him forever doesn’t scare me.
He is the only thing that’s ever made me feel safe.
The trail curves up one last time before spilling us into the clearing.
I breathe in deep, because the view never gets old.
From up here, the pond stretches wide below, framed by trees blazing with fall colors.
The air is crisp, sharp even, and it feels like the kind of moment I’ll remember forever.