Shattered (Extreme Risk 2)

I do turn to her then, forcing myself not to reveal too much. Not to reveal anything, really. “What happened today?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Ash.” For the first time, the soft, reasonable tone she’s been using since she walked out here slips a little. “Maybe the fact that you nearly died in an avalanche?”

I didn’t think she’d go there. She’s been tiptoeing around me all day, they all have, so I figured she’d keep doing it. The last thing she wants to do is upset me, right? To throw what my carelessness would have meant for Logan in my face. And yet here she is, doing just that. This girl is full of surprises.

I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“It wasn’t that close,” I tell her after a minute, in a voice that all but screams for her to back off.

“That’s not what the ski patrol said. Or Z. Or Luc.”

Luc again. Like I somehow missed them cozied up at the table for half the damn night? “Yeah, well, they weren’t there, were they?”

“No, but—”

“Look, can we drop it?” It comes out harsher than I intend, but fuck, I’m not going to be able to hold it together if she keeps pushing. My head is just too big of a mess.

“Sure. Of course.” Tansy’s voice breaks and I can practically hear her confidence crumble. It makes me feel like a douche, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now, either. “But I do want to say that I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“That’s not true. I’m the one who pushed you into coming here, who practically forced you out onto that mountain—”

“I went out onto that mountain for Timmy.” And for me. I wanted that ride so bad I could taste it and I nearly fucked everything up because of it.

“No, Ash.” Tansy reaches for me then, her hand grabbing onto my bicep. Heat tears through me at the touch, turning my whole body into one raw, electrified nerve. Not that that surprises me anymore. It’s like this every time our bodies come into contact, accidentally or otherwise. “I’m really—”

“I get it!” I all but shout at her. I need her to back off, need her to walk away before I do something even more stupid than I already have. “You feel bad. You’re sorry. I told you, there’s nothing to be sorry for, so can we just fucking drop it?”

She peers up at me for long seconds, mouth open, face pale. I feel like I’ve just kicked a puppy and I hate it. Almost as much as I hate the way being close to her makes me ache. I’ve spent too long trying not to feel anything and being near her—smelling her, feeling her, seeing her—makes that impossible. There’s something about Tansy that makes me feel way too much.

“Yeah, sure,” she finally says, but she doesn’t let go of my arm. Doesn’t move away, doesn’t run away, like I figured she would. Instead, she just stares up at me, lips trembling, and she looks so fragile, so vulnerable, so goddamn beautiful that I can barely think. Barely breathe.

She’s dropped the hipster look today, in favor of the apres-ski look. Tight leggings that show off her amazing legs, a big, soft cashmere sweater that’s way too touchable, a pretty scarf, knee-high boots. Except for the slicked-back purple hair, she looks like any other snowbunny. That is, as long as I don’t look too closely at those big hazel eyes of hers. Though I know she tries to hide it, her vulnerability is way too obvious when our gazes lock.

Damn it.

“Look, you should go in,” I tell her, turning back toward the resort grounds. “It’s cold and you’re shivering.”

“You’re shivering, too.”

“No, I’m—” But damn it, I am shaking. It’s not from the cold, though. It’s reaction, pure and simple, the truth of what almost happened today catching up with me in a way I can no longer avoid.

“You are.” She steps even closer, puts an arm around my waist. Cuddles into me. Again I try to ignore the electric shock that tears through me. Again, I fail. “You know, Ash, it’s okay to be upset. Anybody would be in similar circumstances.”

“I already told you, I’m fine.”

“I know. Of course. I just meant that if you were upset and you needed to talk to someone who wasn’t a boarder, someone who isn’t as close to the situation or who doesn’t know you as well as the others … maybe you could … talk to me? I mean, I’m not very good at this, obviously, but I feel like, if you would just—”

Her words—her earnestness—breaks me, and my resolve. I grab her arms, spin her to face me and then haul her against my chest. But, Jesus, can you blame me? She’s making me crazy.

Tansy gasps the second my mouth slams down onto hers, her hands coming up to push against my chest a little. But I’m not letting go, not when I’ve only just finally gotten a taste of her sweetness. And fuck, is she sweet. Not that that’s exactly a surprise. She tastes just like she smells—like sugar and vanilla and the underlying honey of the wine she was drinking earlier.

I nip at her lower lip, relishing the little squeak she makes. I do it again, then run my tongue along the edge of it to soothe the sting. She moans a little, opens wider. Curls her fingers into my shirt and clings. It’s an invitation I don’t even think about refusing. How can I when I’ve been wanting this from the moment she walked into that damn rental shop at the resort?

Need rips through me at the thought and I grind our lips together, my tongue delving inside to taste, stroke, explore. She whimpers in response, and this time when she moves her hands, it’s to pull me closer, to hold me tighter. Her fingers tangle in the edges of my hair and her head tilts back, her mouth opening wider so that I can taste every part of her.

The bumpiness of the roof of her mouth.