Chapter 12 #2
Being together like this, so intimately but yet not intimately, is reminding me of what it was like when we were together.
Up until things fell apart, we were good together.
Better than good. I lived in a constant state of disbelief and elation and gratitude that Ayla had chosen me.
That she loved me. She was a goddess. Gorgeous, kind, smart.
I worshipped her and would have happily cut myself open to donate an organ if she needed it.
But the one thing I couldn’t do for her meant the end of us.
I let out a long sigh and push up to my feet. I think I saw hot chocolate mix in a cupboard. Yes.
I’m just finishing my concoction when Ayla comes out of the bathroom wearing black leggings, a long-sleeved base layer, and thick socks.
I nod approvingly.
She shoots me a prickly look. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” They’re perfectly suitable for outdoor activity, so yeah. But, no. The tight clothes show off her shape. “I just have to use the bathroom.”
When I return, she’s got on her puffy jacket, hat, and boots, ready to go. I dress again and we set out into the snow. A few wispy white clouds now overlay the blue sky, but it’s still brilliant. The snow sparkles with a million tiny diamonds.
I lead the way back to the equipment shack and we get set up with snowshoes.
I did this many times as a kid, so it’s easy for me to get the hang of how to walk in them, but Ayla keeps stepping on her own snowshoes and falling.
I haul her out of the snow a few times and I’m glad she’s laughing.
She’s a good sport and she can laugh at herself, and I loved that about her.
“Oh my God,” she gasps after the third fall. “I’m so uncoordinated. I swear I haven’t been drinking. Actually, that might help.”
I grin and reach into my jacket. I pull out a flask. “Here you go.”
Her eyes widen. “What’s in there?”
“Hot chocolate.”
I open it and hand it to her. She takes a cautious sip. Gives a little cough. “Okay, that’s more than hot chocolate.”
“I added a little rum.”
“You brought rum?”
“I sure did.”
She tries not to smile. “Nice.” She takes another swig and hands it back to me. I drink some, too.
We follow a different trail this time through the fluffy snow, pausing occasionally for hot-chocolate reinforcement.
We descend into the ridge between Gray Ledge and Butler Mountain.
Here, the wind howls through the ridge, turning the fluffy snow into a hard crust. Unfortunately, we don’t have spikes on our snowshoes and progress is challenging.
I pause several times to check in with Ayla.
“This is hard work,” she puffs.
“Yeah. Let’s head that way.” I point. “We can go back up toward the summit. Apparently, there’s a ledge there with an amazing view.”
The climb is hard work, too, and we leave birch trees behind to trek through snow-covered conifers. Eventually, we come to the ledge. We sit in the snow to admire the view.
The mountains stretch out beneath us in undulating layers, black and white with the bare trees and the snow, the trees distinct near us but becoming more obscure in the distance.
The farthest mountains are soft peaks of smoke gray and charcoal.
On one slope, ski trails curve down the mountain, white paths through dark trees.
“Beautiful,” Ayla murmurs, holding the flask. Her cheeks are bright pink, eyes sparkling. She takes a drink then hands it to me. “This was a good idea. I was kind of stressed.”
“You’re welcome.”
She does a tiny eye roll. “Thank you.” She pauses. “Does this remind you of home?”
She doesn’t mean Hoboken. She means Canada.
I nod. “Yeah. The mountains aren’t as big, though.”
“The mountains right around Salmon Arm aren’t that big, though.”
“True, we had to drive to go snowboarding or skiing. But there are nice places not that far away. And the Rockies are way bigger than this.” There’s nothing like the Rocky Mountains.
“I loved it in the summer.”
“You even learned how to water ski.”
She snorts. “Not very well.”
“You got up. That’s huge.”
“My thighs killed me for days after that.” She laughs.
“I thought that was from all our adult funtivities.”
Her mouth falls open, then she snaps it shut, her cheeks going even pinker. She lifts the flask to her lips and drinks more.
“Easy there.” I reach to take it away from her. “We don’t want any drunk snowshoeing accidents.”
“I’m not drunk,” she protests, grabbing the flask back and taking another swig.
“I’m just looking out for you.”
“You’re crossing boundaries again.”
“What the fuck?” I shift and stare at her.
She meets my eyes defiantly and drinks more rum-laced hot chocolate. “I’m a grown adult. I’ll drink more if I want to.”
“Well. To be honest, that doesn’t sound like a very grown-up statement.”
Her jaw sags. “What? What are you saying? I’m childish?”
“I didn’t say that.” I keep my voice level and calm.
“That’s what you meant.” She chugs more of the beverage. “You’re not my caretaker.”
Jesus. I rub my head and tug my toque back into place, frustration making my temples throb. “Maybe we should head back.” The sun is getting lower in the sky and the air is taking on more of a chill.
Her lips thin. But she recaps the flask and stands. “Here.”
I take the flask and give it a little shake. Empty. I tuck it back into my jacket and set off along the trail, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she’s following.
She’s not. She’s gone closer to the rim of the ledge to peer over.
“Ayla! Get back!”
She glances at me, frowning. “I’m fine.”
“You can’t tell in the snow where the ledge ends. Get back.”
She doesn’t move so I start toward her in long strides, adrenaline spiking in my blood, visions of the snow giving out and Ayla crashing down the cliff playing in front of my eyes. Fuck.
She moves even closer to the edge just as I reach her and grab her arm. I yank her back and the snow crumbles beneath her snowshoes. The adrenaline has me leaping back, pulling her with me, both of us landing in the snow.
“Oh my God! I started an avalanche!” Ayla lies beneath me, eyes wide.
“I don’t think it’s an avalanche.” My heart is booming. “But it could have been you going down that cliff. Jesus Christ, Ayla.”
I look down into her face and see genuine fear in her blue eyes.
We stare at each other for a moment. My heart is pounding but with thick jackets between us, I can’t feel hers.
The pulse in her throat flutters wildly, though, and I inexplicably have a desire to put my mouth there.
To suck her soft flesh. Lick that pulse. My body hardens.
“What were you thinking?” I growl.
“I just wanted one last look at the view!” She struggles to push me away and I roll off her, releasing her. I lie on my back and stare at the sky, trying to get my breathing back under control.
Fuck. She just scared the shit out of me.