Shattered (Extreme Risk 2)

It shouldn’t—after all, I have Ash right here with me and that’s all I really wanted for tonight. But I’ve never been on a real date before, with a guy who actually likes me and is attracted to me and who I know will kiss me (and more) at the end of the night. It sounds kind of fun, and since this is just a little midsummer fling, who knows when I’ll ever get the chance again.

Still, it’s silly to whine about it when I’ve got Ash right here, ready to kiss me and a whole lot more. “It’s fine. We can stay in.”

Again, he pulls back, looks at my face. Then smiles. “Nope. Sorry. I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but you’re definitely going to have to take me to dinner first.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, really? You’re that kind of date, huh?”

“I am.”

“Well, we seem to have a problem, since you’ve divested me of all my clothes.”

“I’m sure you have other clothes. Better clothes than that ridiculous getup,” he says with a snarl.

“Wow, you really didn’t like the preppy clothes.”

“I really didn’t.”

I walk to the closet, pull out the short black skirt that Anna slipped into my suitcase, and a silky green blouse with a deep V-neck. Then, under Ash’s watchful eyes, slip them both on. The skirt only comes to mid thigh and the blouse shows a little more of my very microscopic chest than I might have originally intended, but the look on Ash’s face makes me feel good. Makes me feel beautiful despite the port scar that the shirt doesn’t quite hide.

“Better?” I ask.

“So much,” he says, his arms winding around my waist. “You look like Tansy now.”

Curious, I glance in the mirror, try to see what he sees. I have to admit, I like the way the color brightens up my skin, the way it shows off my eyes. So much better than the boring white and baby blue I was wearing earlier. Huh. Maybe I am figuring out who I am, one step a time. It’s a good thought. Even better, considering Ash is somehow a part of that discovery.

Reaching for him, I get on my tiptoes and kiss him hard. “Thank you.”

He looks baffled. “For what?”

For so many things that I don’t know where to start. So I settle for the most important one, the one that has had me waking up with a smile on my face every morning since we got here. “For being you.”

“Umm, okay.” He looks even more confused. But that’s okay. Because Ash may recognize parts of me before I do, but I’m finding out that I can do the same for him, with parts of himself that he’s lost these last seven months. And the parts of Ash Lewis that I’ve found so far? Pretty. Damn. Impressive.

Chapter 21

Ash

“I thought you were really great, Ash!”

I turn to smile at Timmy, despite the fact that we both know I totally bailed on my first run. My momentum was shit, I biffed two separate tricks and ended by doing an asspass right through the end of the pipe. Not exactly star snowboarder material.

“Thanks, Timmy. But I think the next run’ll probably go better.” Especially if I keep my head in the game and my eyes off Tansy’s ass. She showed up just as I was getting ready to roll and watching her bend over, messing with her boots, shot my concentration all to hell. Of course, Luc and Z had seen the whole thing and have been giving me shit about it for the last twenty minutes. Hence the reason Timmy feels the need to defend me.

He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I just like being out here with you guys. It’s awesome.”

Fuck, how can this kid be dying and still have such a sunny attitude? It doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, but it sure as hell makes me feel totally bunk. What the hell is wrong with me that I can’t keep it together when Timmy—who by rights should be a total fucking basket case—can smile like he’s got the whole fucking world at his feet?

“We like being out here with you, too.” I hold up a fist and he bumps it, then we turn and watch as Cam just fucking smokes the pipe with a run that is totally Broadway. It’s the same run she used to pull down the silver medal in Sochi and it looks better than ever. The girl has sick skills.

Luc starts getting ready for his run, and I glance back at Timmy just in time to see him staring at the half-pipe with a faraway look on his face. I know the look—have seen it on thousands of faces through the years—including my own. Timmy, for all his sickness, is a daredevil. He wants to be out there, riding the pipe with the rest of us.

Suddenly, an idea comes to me and I almost blurt it out before I can stop myself. I don’t, though—I have to check with his parents first. The last thing I want is to disappoint Timmy—or to put them in the role of bad guys. God knows, I’ve had to play that part with Logan often enough in the last seven months. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

I’ve done it before—a long time ago, with both Z and Cam. We were younger then, lighter, but we also weren’t as strong. If I’d been able to propel them then, I sure as hell can do the same with Timmy now.

“Hey, man, I’ll be right back,” I tell him, heading toward where his parents are watching from a little ways away.

His mom is a little hesitant when I explain what I want to do and I don’t blame her—she’s been watching us throw down for the last three days now, pulling out crazy stunts and going balls to the wall just because we can. She’d be nuts if she wasn’t a little nervous about what I’m proposing.