7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Ella
Snow crunches beneath our boots as Joe and I trudge up the hill, sleds in tow. The town’s best sledding spot, a steep hill just past the old Miller farm, is packed with kids and families enjoying the fresh snowfall. Laughter and excited shrieks fill the air as sleds zip down the slope, some riders managing graceful landings, others tumbling into fluffy piles of white.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I mutter.
Joe laughs, and it comes out muffled. He’s wearing a ski mask to conceal his identity. If we were anywhere else, people would take one look at this hulking man, 6’ 2” of solid muscle wearing a freaking ski mask, and run away in terror. But in the snow, it’s totally acceptable.
“This was your idea, Matthews,” I huff, adjusting my scarf as we reach the top. “I hope you’re ready to lose.”
Joe grins, the tip of his nose red from the cold. “Lose? Have you seen these legs? I was built for speed.”
I glance down at his long, powerful legs, the same ones that carry him across football fields at record speeds. “Okay, show-off. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
We plop onto our sleds, side by side. Joe counts down. “Three…two…one—”
I push off first, catching him by surprise. “Cheater!” he yells, laughing as he kicks off after me.
The rush of cold air steals my breath as I speed down the hill, snow spraying up around me. I’m laughing so hard, I barely notice Joe gaining on me—until he crashes into my sled, sending us both tumbling into a heap of limbs and laughter at the bottom.
When I finally lift my head, Joe’s laughing down at me, his blue eyes shining. “Told you I was fast.”
I flick snow at him. “Told you you’d lose.”
He just laughs, brushing snow from my hair. And in that moment, with the world quiet around us, I swear I feel Cupid aiming right at me. If Joe wasn’t wearing a ski mask, there’s no way I could keep from wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.
As it is, I’m tempted to lift his mask and re-enact the famous kissing scene from Spiderman.
I take a shaky breath. “I challenge you to a rematch.” Then I leap from the ground and start running back up the hill.
Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, catching in Joe’s blonde hair as we stand outside my front door. The town is quiet, wrapped in the hush of a late winter evening. I should go inside.
Instead, I linger.
Joe shifts, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his breath curling in the cold air. "I had a great time today," he says softly.
I nod, my heart fluttering. "Me too."
For a moment, we just stand there, the silence stretching between us—not awkward, not tense. Just… charged.
Joe takes a step closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the way his breath stirs the air between us. "Ella," he murmurs, his voice warm and unsure all at once.
My pulse pounds. "Yeah?"
He hesitates, like he’s giving me the chance to pull away. I don’t.
Then, ever so gently, he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. The world tilts as he leans in, his lips brushing against mine, soft and warm and careful, like he’s afraid to break the magic of the moment.
And just like that, I’m gone.
I melt into him, my hands finding the front of his jacket, gripping the fabric to keep myself steady. The kiss is slow, sweet, everything I never knew I wanted. The town, the snow, the world itself all fades away until it’s just Joe and me, standing in the quiet of a winter’s night.
When we finally part, he rests his forehead against mine, exhaling a small, breathless laugh. “Wow.”
“Better than winning the Heisman Trophy?” I tease.
“Better than every football win combined,” he confirms.
I slap his chest. “Lies.”
He gazes down at me in earnest. “Truth.”
And I can see that he means it. At least, right now, in this moment, he means it.
I laugh softly, my fingers still curled in e his jacket. "I think I may owe Cupid an apology.”
“Hmmm?” he asks, his forehead furrowed.
“Never mind.” I blink up at him slowly. “Hey, quarterback…?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me again.”
And the second kiss is even better than the first.