Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
ALLIE
“Private car,” the cowboy says at the ticket window. I exhale sharply reading the gondola sign. It’s too much. He shoves a wad of cash across the counter, making small talk with the resort employee like they know each other well. It’s also too late to pretend nothing’s changed.
We wait quietly for our car, the hum of the engine purring. I hug myself tight, body still shaking, still remembering the iron brand of watching my luggage slam through the window, clothes fluttering to the ground.
It could have broken me, but I’m still standing. Still here.
“I’m sorry,” I say, biting my bottom lip, searching for the right words. “I ruined your night, and now today—”
He cuts in gently but firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Things were a lot less complicated before I showed up.”
“Less interesting, too,” he adds.
A car pulls up, door sliding open. A little thrill flutters through my chest. I don’t know if it’s from the sear of his hot flesh as he helps me inside. Or the anticipation of floating above the twilight ski resort.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say breathlessly, blood draining from my face.
His eyebrows shoot up. “You okay?”
The door slides shut, and we lurch forward slightly.
“Have to be now, right?”
He looks puzzled, taking the seat across from me. Giving me space. But it’s not what I want right now.
I twist my hands in my lap, squeezing my eyes shut for one long moment. “I didn’t tell you before. But I’m kind of afraid of heights.”
His face falls, like he’s measuring a miscalculation. “How bad is it?”
“Just enough that … umm.” I shift in my seat, refusing to look out the window as the car moves stiltedly forward, down the long concrete platform as more passengers load behind us.
“Do you need to get off, Allie?” he asks, eyeing the emergency lever above the door, leaning forward.
I shake my head too fast, pulse racing. “Talk to me,” I whisper when the ground drops away.
He does. Low. Steady.
And I realize—I’ve spent years using my voice for other people, but this is the first time someone else’s voice makes me feel safe.
Still, I need more. How do I ask this? Trevor would mock me for such a request.
I open my eyes, appraise the cowboy for one long moment. He’s not Trevor.
“Maybe you could sit next to me? And… umm… hold my hand?”
He doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t make it a thing. Just takes the seat, covering my trembling fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asks, confusion threading his voice. “We could’ve done something else.”
“No, I want to do this,” I explain, voice firming. “Just not alone. Is that okay?”
He nods.
The lifts rises, and I gasp, squeezing his warm hand tighter. His fingers grip mine, resolute and steady. Something I can count on.
“You okay?”
Momentary weightlessness fills the space as we climb sharply upward. My breath hitches in my throat, and my chest tightens. Then, the car’s path smooths a slow, intentional climb.
“Allie?”
I open one eye, peering at him in the dark space, moonlight and stardust illuminating his features.
My eyes dart to our hands. “Still okay.” I shift my fingers, sliding them between his. My only regret, the thin layer of glove between our naked flesh.
He levels his simmering gaze on me. “When you’re ready—and if you’re okay with it—I want you to look up.”
“Look up?” My head tilts back, and pure wonder escapes my lips. “Austin, this… this is beautiful!”
Overhead, the sky is black velvet, glittering diamonds strewn across its surface. I’ve never seen anything like it. “The Milky Way. The Big Dipper. Even the Little Dipper.” They grow in clarity as we lumber farther from the gondola station, dusk giving way to a stunningly clear night.
“Pretty, aren’t they?” But he’s not looking up as he says it. His eyes are fixed on me.
My throat tightens, heart a marimba behind my ribs.
“Tell me more about why you chose this,” I say. My voice cracks as the cold of night wraps around us. Dark. Intimate. Quiet in the best way.
Austin shrugs. “Up here, nothing’s chasing you. Thought you might like that.”
The heat of his hand—his earthy cologne—wraps around me, inspiring boldness. I peer down, mouth gaping at the sight below. Moonlight shimmers across the breast of new-fallen snow, dark swathes of green forest like geometric artwork, fracturing the pristine powder.
My eyes blur. Not because of Trevor or anything that happened earlier. But because of the steady man seated quietly beside me, like a rock. A foundation.
I never want this to end—fingers clasped, breaths moving in time. It feels like so much more. My heart tugs, grief giving way to regret.
“I wish I’d known this kind of quiet existed sooner,” I say softly. “And that it wasn’t something to fear.”
Heat rushes my cheeks the second the words leave my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I add too quickly. “Forget I said that.”
“Everything happens for a reason,” he says darkly, shifting in his seat for a better view. I can’t tell if he believes it, or he’s paving the way for our inevitable goodbye.
After all, this can’t last. Right?
He rests our hands atop his knee, like it’s more comfortable. Maybe that’s all. But my body’s on fire so close to this man.
It confuses and shames me. So soon after everything that happened.
Maybe some part of me still sees things the way Trevor said they were.
Or maybe I’ve already wasted far too much time.
Maybe it’s time for different.
Austin murmurs, as if reading my mind, “May not be the right time for this. Don’t know if I’ll have another chance, though.”
My breath freezes in my chest.
“I care about you, Allie.”
I wet my lips, heart thudding in my ears. Did I hear him right?
“I don’t expect anything. Won’t chase or pressure you. But this.” He squeezes my hand, face warm and open as he stares at me. “This I want more of.”
A grin captures my lips. Silly, schoolgirlish, but I can’t help it.
He side-eyes me warmly, corners of his mouth almost tipping up.
“What would you say if I wanted to choose quiet for a little while longer?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t say anything.” The words are what I need as I snuggle closer to the big man despite the heater humming softly in the background, pointing out constellations and living, breathing the moment.
No past, no future.
All existence wrapped up in one gentle, beautiful moment.