What If - Page 23

Nyelle yells out when she catches air going over a bump on her way down.

Watching her fly down the hill on a sled wearing a wedding dress is a memory I don’t ever want to forget.

“We should try one together,” Nyelle suggests on our way back up the hill.

“That saucer can’t be very comfortable.”

“Not really.

I’m probably bruised,” I admit, having felt every groove and bump as if I were sliding down the slope on my bare ass.

“But I’m having fun, if that makes you feel better.”

“Of course you’re having fun! We’re sledding in a snowstorm wearing wedding clothes.

How could you not?” I laugh.

“How are we going to do this?” I ask when we reach the top and Nyelle sets the sled down.

It’s not very big.

There’s no way the two of us will be able to fit on it without her sitting on top of me.

Actually… I like that option.

“Let’s stand.”

“What?” I shoot back.

“And kill ourselves?”

“What’s the worst that can happen? We fall in the snow…”

“And kill ourselves.” She laughs and grabs my lapels through my partially unzipped coat, shaking me.

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Cal? Let’s snow surf!” I stare at her for a moment.

She dares me without blinking.

I grumble in defeat.

Those damn eyes win every time.

“Fine.

But if we fall, I’m using you and that huge dress as a cushion.” Nyelle shakes her head at my weak threat.

She steps on, holding my shoulder with one hand for balance and gripping the thin nylon rope looped through the front of the sled with the other.

I carefully step on behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and holding on to the rope too.

I would be enjoying this right now, if I weren’t looking down the steep hill, foreseeing the wipeout that’s going to hurt like hell.

I widen my stance and bend my knees to balance better.

“Ready?” I murmur in her ear.

She nods.

I swear I can feel her heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on.” I shift my weight forward, inching us to the edge and down the hill.

The cold wind rushes in my face.

I can’t feel the snow hitting me.

My legs give with each bump, and adrenaline courses through me.

I’m almost convinced we’re going to make it when we hit the bump, and my feet leave the sled.

Nyelle yells out and topples forward, grabbing my hand and taking me with her.

We crash into the snow and tumble down the hill.

I come to a stop, sprawled on my back, unable to see anything past the snow covering my face.

“Nyelle, are you okay?” I ask, tipping on my side.

She doesn’t answer.

“Nyelle?” She’s buried in the snow, with just her boots sticking out.

I crawl over to her, clearing off the avalanche.

“Nyelle?” When I finally find her face, she’s laughing so hard, no noise comes out.

Her chest spasms, and her mouth is open wide.

I remove my glove to clear the snow from her cheeks.

Tears are welled in her eyes when she calms enough to focus on me.

“Are you okay?” I ask again, looking down at her, encased in snow.

She bites her bottom lip, still smiling, and nods.

I’m suddenly very aware of her and her slow, drawn breaths.

My hand is still cupping her cheek, and I’m transfixed by the emotion captured in her eyes.

Just as I’m bending down to kiss her, she sits up, and her head slams into my cheek.

I groan, falling onto my back in pain.

“Oh, Cal, I’m so sorry,” Nyelle says in a rush.

“Are you all right?” She leans over me, concerned.

She places a glove on my cheek, covering my face with snow.

“Thanks, Nyelle.

I’m fine,” I sputter, brushing it off.

She laughs and stands to offer me her hand, so I let her help me up.

“Well, since we’re already a mess,” Nyelle says, still holding my hand, “let’s make snow angels.” My eyes widen.

“What?”

“Over here.” She pulls me along, slogging through the snow to a flat spot that hasn’t been touched.

“Turn around.” With her back to the snow, Nyelle steps to the side so that her arms are extended.

She glances over at me in expectation, waiting for me to extend my arms too.

I sigh.

“Okay.” She smiles.

“Ready? Fall back on three.

One.

Two.

Three.” We fall backward into the deep snow.

I’m in a small white cave, peeking up at the stormy sky.

“Sweep your arms and legs, Cal!” Nyelle instructs me.

So I do.

Rae would never let me live this down if she could see me.

When I’ve flattened the area around my arms and legs, I stop and watch the flakes drift down, mesmerized.

They land on my face, melt into my skin, and get caught in my lashes.

“Cal?”

“Yeah,” I respond, unable to see her beside me.

“Have you ever been in love?” There’s silence for a moment.

I’m not exactly prepared for the question.

“No.

Have you?”

“No.

I wonder what it’s like.” Her voice sounds like an echo in the stillness.

“I think it will be like falling backward in the dark.

Terrifying.

Exhilarating.

Having to trust that there’ll be someone there to catch you.”

“Or you land in the snow and freeze your ass off.

Or on some jagged rock and break your back.

Or…”

“Cal!” Nyelle hollers, sitting up.

“That’s not romantic at all.” I laugh just as a snowball lands on my head.

“Hey!” I sit up, and she’s smiling at me innocently.

“Oh, that’s how we’re playing this.” Her mouth drops.

“Don’t you dare!” She jumps up and tries to run across the snow just as I push up and rush after her.

I grab her around the waist and dump her in a deep drift, falling down beside her.

She releases my favorite laugh, shoveling a pile of snow in my face in order to escape.

I crawl after her, pulling her back down.

“I give up,” she cries out, holding her hands up in surrender.

Her face is flushed red, and she’s breathing in quick pants with a huge smile on her face.

The thought of trying to kiss her again enters my mind, but I’m afraid if I try, I’ll end up with another bruise.

So I stand and hoist her up.

She looks down at my pants and covers her mouth to hide her laugh.

“They’re split open, aren’t they?” I ask, closing my eyes, silently cursing.

With her mouth still covered, she nods.

“Yeah, it’s time to go before everything that’s important to me freezes.” She nods again, still speechless.

We pick up the sleds along the way and head back to the truck.

I can feel the air rush into the slit between my legs as we walk, but I’m just resigned to let it be what it is and don’t bother looking.

Nyelle keeps laughing in bursts.

She’s trying not to, but it is funny.

Only I can’t bring myself to laugh just yet.

“At least you have white boxer briefs on,” Nyelle says, trying to make me feel better between giggles.

“Don’t.” I shake my head, knowing for certain my dignity is buried somewhere back there in the snow.

“Just don’t.” Nyelle laughs again.

When we get to my truck, Nyelle waits inside the cab, while I clear off the snow.

“Want to come back to my hotel room to warm up?” Nyelle asks, when I get back in the truck.

I swallow, hard.

“Excuse me?” She smiles.

“That’s not what I meant.

I have ice cream.

We can make sundaes.”

“Um, ice cream is not going to warm me up.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” she says with big eyes.

“Ice cream always makes everything better.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but okay,” I concede, backing out of the parking spot.

“Where are you staying?”

“The Trinity Hotel.”

“And why are you staying there?” I shift and slowly start down the plowed road.

“The dorms are creepy when they’re empty,” she explains.

Nyelle wipes her window when we reach an intersection.

“Will you turn here?”

“Uh, sure,” I respond, taking a right down a narrow road with an old factory on one side and broken-down buildings on the other.

“What’s down here, other than someone waiting to kill us?” She rolls her eyes.

Nyelle wipes the window again, squinting her eyes in search of something, or someone.

“Stop.” I press on the brakes, looking around.

The road is dark, filled with tall shadows like the buildings are determined to block out the daylight.

“Nyelle,” I call to her as she opens the door and hops out.

I shut off the truck and follow after her, not about to let her go off by herself.

She disappears into an alley as I walk around the truck.

Then I hear, “Is that you, my angel?” The voice is low and gravelly, strained with age.

“Gus, where’s your jacket?”

“The shadows took it,” he rasps.

I reach the corner of the building and stop.

A man is huddled under a torn awning on a piece of cardboard.

Nyelle takes off her jacket and hands it to him.

“No.

No.

The shadows will take it,” he says, trying to give it back.

His scraggly beard is twisted with black and gray, and wiry tendrils of the same shades hang over his ears.

His face is lined with life, weathered and dirty.

He’s old, but how old is hard to tell because of the fatigue that creases his brow and the sallow tone of his skin.

His dark eyes stare at Nyelle like he can’t trust his sight.

I can see why he would think she’s an angel, especially in that dress—even if he is delusional.

“They won’t take it from you today,” she assures him, bending down to wrap the jacket around his shoulders.

“I was hoping to see you at the shelter this week.”

“No.

I stay in the dark.

I like the dark,” he mutters, repeating himself over again while rocking.

“I know.

I was just hoping.”

“Are you going to take me today? Please?” he pleads, his eyes dark.

She smiles down at him sorrowfully.

“Not today, Gus.

I’m sorry.” Nyelle bends down to look into his eyes.

“Stay warm, okay? I’ll come find you again soon.” Gus begins rocking again, staring at the ground with the jacket pulled tight around him.

Nyelle stands up and turns.

She pauses when she finds me watching.

I take off my jacket when she reaches me and wrap it around her shoulders, holding her by my side as we walk back to the truck without saying a word.

As I turn the truck around to put us back on course, I ask, “How did you two meet?” Nyelle stares out the window.

“I volunteered this month at the shelter, and sometimes I go out with the street team to hand out meals to the people who don’t… won’t come to the shelter.”

“How often do you help out at the shelter?” I ask, still trying to put the pieces of her life together.

“I play with the kids a couple days a week so their parents can look for work,” she answers, turning her head toward me.

Tags: Rebecca Donovan Romance
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