“You know it’s not snowing, right?” I tease her, but really, she’s adorable like this, bouncing on her toes for warmth, tight jeans down her legs, feet stuffed in rubber-toed boots. She looks like winter—my kind of winter.
“It’s somehow colder out here, ya know? Like, I mean, I’ve been cold in the city, and wind off the Atlantic is ooof!” She widens her eyes in expression. “But whatever this Midwestern stuff is, it’s a whole different kinda cold. My breath is a solid. Skipped right over the gaseous state.”
She puckers her lips and puffs out a few times, a tiny train engine coughing out steam. I see the fog clearly, but mostly I’m looking at her lips.
“I see you’re tougher than I am?” She pulls one gloved hand loose from under her arm and gestures at my body, not quite as fully wrapped as hers.
I could play it tough, but that’s not what this morning is supposed to be about at all. Unzipping my jacket, I twist the front inside-out and step closer for her to feel inside. She looks at me like I’m a total creep, which, considering how Zack has been toward her, I get.
“Feel my shoulder. I promise, just trust me,” I say.
With twisted lips, she studies me for a beat, and her hesitant expression makes my chest ache just a little. I don’t want to be the kind of guy that anyone makes that kind of face at, especially not her.
After a heavy sigh, she narrows her eyes and tightens her lips, still not sure whether she can trust me. If we can’t get past this test, we’re in trouble for the rest of the morning. She pulls her hand free from the glove then slips it under my jacket, nervous fingers tracing up over my shoulder as I cautiously fold the jacket back over her hand and my chest.
“It’s made for snowboarders. Lots of warmth without the bulk. I think it’s the same material they make bullet proof vests out of,” I say.
Her lip ticks up and her eyes blink a few times before her gaze hits mine.
“Does that mean I can shoot you?”
“Ha!” I punch out a laugh, but the silence that follows during our brief stare leaves me a little unsteady. She’s kidding, but there’s maybe a one percent slice of honesty in that barb.
An entirely new feeling takes over when she pulls her hand away. Her movement is slower, and I feel the tiny vibration in her thumb along my chest. She’s nervous, too, and not because she thinks I’m going to shoot her.
“We should get to it. I don’t want to make you late,” I say, nodding toward the head of the trail.
“You mean you don’t want Zack to know you’re gone,” she corrects. She’s intuitive—and right.
“That too,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder, my mouth a straight line to mark my guilt. I slow my steps to look at her a little longer and feel the burn left behind from her calling me on my bullshit. Maybe I crave the punishment to absolve me of my sins when it comes to her.
Eyes forward again, I pull a small flashlight from my pocket and click it on, lighting the way to the edge of the canyon. The walk isn’t long, but it feels like a mile with the silence that swallows us. The only noises are the crunch under our feet and the occasional snap of branches.
The makeshift ladder seems scarier now in the faint light of the moon, the pole slick with the deep frost that comes before dawn. I grip the metal pegs that jut out from the pole in my bare hands, the cold stinging my skin. I let go for a minute and rub my hands together, as if that’ll help.
“Wait a minute. We’re climbing up that?” Hollis points up.
“It’s worth it,” I say, starting my climb without giving in to the cautionary tale beating in my chest. The metal stings and I’m glad Hollis has gloves because at least she’ll be able to tolerate the cold. The height thing, however, might be a different story.
She beings to climb behind me when I’m a full body-length ahead, and we both keep a steady pace. The wind is colder the higher we go, and by the time I reach the wooden platform at the top, it’s chilling. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I hope you know my dad will kill both of us if either of us gets hurt,” she says, hoisting herself up to join me in the small standing-room space.
“Good thing we’ll go down together, then—literally,” I respond, tugging at the sturdy straps dangling loose around the tall pole at the edge of the platform. I keep my gaze on Hollis while I untangle the contraption, and it’s hard not to laugh when her eyes widen so big that I see mostly the whites.
“Oh, hell no,” she says through nervous laughter, shaking her head.
I tug on the zipline harness built for two with all my weight to prove that this thing is sturdy. I made Zack prove it to me. And if this can hold both of us, I’m pretty sure Hollis and I will be fine.
“I did this last month with Zack. It’s a serious thrill, and besides”—I stretch the straps out and step through one section before holding out the remaining two loops for her—“A bet’s a bet.”
I hit her with a daring grin. The wind is strong enough that it whips the hair sticking out of my knit hat. Hollis’s hair twists like tentacles, blonde ribbons curving around her neck then stretching out into the air like fingers. Her nose is pink and her cheeks are red. Her eyes, however, are not quite as wide as before.
