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7 Minutes in Heaven Page 6
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Page 6
He’s about seven feet out over the water. His boots are big and thick, the tread giving him more traction than I’m going to get. But I’m no novice. This is not my first time on the ice and years of skiing have given me good balance. I glide rather than step out after him. He offers me his hand, reaching back for me like he’s going to steady me. I don’t need it but I take the help anyway. I take his hand, letting him wrap it’s heat and strength around me.
“How far out can we go?” he asks, his breath a white fog over his face.
“You could walk across the whole thing if you wanted to.”
“How far is that?”
“A few miles.”
He looks out over the glassy plain, a pinch between his brows. “Maybe not tonight.”
“You scared?” I tease.
He smiles at me. “Nah, just not looking to waste my night hiking across the ice.”
“What else have you got to do?”
“Talk to you.”
I blush. I beam, stronger than the moon hanging low overhead. “I am way more fun than hiking,” I admit shamelessly.
“That’s what I think,” he agrees deeply.
He’s still holding my hand. We’re not moving. We’re standing here, facing each other in the quiet and the cold, separated from everyone. From the other people farther out on the ice and the crowd laughing and dancing on the shore. We’re in the in-between. We’re alone in the middle of the masses; snow globed.
I know he’s thinking about kissing me. I can see it in the way he glances at my mouth. He licks his own lips. His eyes are intent on mine, undisturbed by the world going on around us. My stomach swarms with butterflies as I watch and wait and hope he doesn’t but also pray that he does. Am I ready for him to kiss me? Do I want him to do it here, with everyone else around?
The answer to all of that is no. I’m not ready for that. I’m thinking of Mark and how fast he moved. Of how he wanted everything all at once, right away, no preamble. No thought for me or what I was feeling. It makes me sick and hesitant. It makes me feel small.
I’m relieved when Kyle can read it in my face. He smiles weakly, releasing my hand.
“This spot must be nice during the summer,” he says quietly, moving us past this awkward moment.
I feel relieved and weird, like I let him down somehow. “Um, yeah. Definitely. It’s a good spot to camp once the ground has thawed.”
“When? In July?”
I smile. “Practically. The town will be empty by then. The tourists will have bailed, thank God.”
“Are there a lot of tourists here?” he asks in amazement.
“You haven’t been on The Strip yet have you?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s the main drag through town. It’s all artisan shops and expensive restaurants for the people visiting the mountain. It’s what keeps the town alive. From October to May, we’re swamped with out-of-towners.”
“Wow. Okay, so this place is legit, isn’t it? It’s like Vale or something?”
I snort. “Vale wishes they were Jackson.”
“Careful,” he smirks. “You almost sound proud of the place.”
“Never. But it is a big deal. People come from all over the country to ski here. A lot of them have winter houses to live in during the season. Some of them rent them out during the summer when the mountains are green and the lake is thawed, but a lot of them just leave it empty because they can afford to.”
“That’s crazy. I didn’t realize it was going to be like this when we moved out here. I thought it was just some crappy little town in the middle of Mormon country.”
“It would be if it weren’t for the mountain. It used to be an old mining town, and if there wasn’t good skiing here, that’s probably what it would be again. Either that or it’d die.”
“But you’re still happy when they leave?”
“Their money is great but the people suck. They come here and they can’t drive in the snow. They cause a lot of accidents. They get wasted in the bars on The Strip and start fights. They make a mess at the lodge and on the mountain.”
Kyle’s phone chirps in his pocket. He pulls it out with a frown. I feel weird watching him answer a text. I want to ask who it is but I don’t have that right. I want to pull out my phone to text Makena and ask if she’s talked to Scott yet, but that’d be even weirder. I just have to stand here waiting for him to finish. Luckily, he’s quick.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “It was my mom. She’s a stalker.”
“That sucks.”
“You have no idea. Hey, come here.” He steps in closer to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders. Lightning rushes through my body in a sizzling jolt that sears a small smile on my face. I want more of that feeling. I want more of him and his warm hands, long fingers, and delicate taps against the back of my hand that feels like a knock on a door; gentle and entreating. He turns us until the bonfire is at our backs, holding his phone up in front of us. “Say ‘lying to our parents’!”
“Lying to our parents,” I laugh, leaning into him.
The flash from the camera blinds me. When he takes his arm back from my shoulders, I feel lost for a second. I’m disoriented, my heart rate spiking for no good reason.
Back on the shore, an engine revs aggressively.
“Who’s that?” Kyle mumbles to himself.
I look toward the fire, though I can’t see anything. I’m still recovering from the flash and the light of the fire makes the world behind it impossible to see. But I can spot shadows, people, moving away from the parking lot slowly. They’re backing toward the shore.
I shake my head faintly. “I don’t know.”
Headlights blink on, blinding us. Kyle lifts his hand to block it, squinting into the light. Another set comes on next to the first. Engines rev hard.
My phone rings, vibrating in my pocket. It’s Makena. “Hey, what’s happening?”
“Where are you?” she asks anxiously. I can hear the engines revving loud through the phone.
“I’m on the ice with Kyle and some other people. Why?”
“Get off. Now!”
The engines roar in my ear and over the ice.
“They’re going to race!”
I swear, reaching for Kyle’s hand. “We have to get off the ice.”
“Why?”
“Those trucks are going to race across it.”
“Will they break it?” he asks briskly, immediately falling in step with me as I shuffle out of their way toward the shore.
“Probably not but they won’t have traction either. They can’t always go straight.” I turn toward the other people slowly making their way off the ice. “Hurry up! They’re racing across the lake!”
I hear someone in their crowd curse, same way I did. The group rushes to get out of the way.
“If they don’t have traction, aren’t they worried they’ll crash?”
“They don’t know,” I growl. “They’re not locals. Locals don’t do dumb stuff like this. They’re rich dickbags who don’t care if their car gets stuck out on the ice or wrecked.”
“Or if they run over a few locals on the way?”
“Rich dickbags,” I repeat angrily.
Kyle grips my hand hard as we make our way to safety. We’re not heading straight for the shore. We’re going wide, getting out of the line of fire before turning inland. We’re not as fast as we should be, though. The trucks rev their engines one final time, a gun is fired somewhere on land, and then they’re off. They’re racing out over the ice, their wheels spinning wildly once they hit the slick surface.
The truck closest to us starts drifting our way.
I don’t panic. I keep a tight hold on Kyle’s hand and I start running. I’m slipping and sliding, but we’re making better time. We’re getting farther from the path of the truck.
Just as it’s about to pass us, taking the danger with it, I hear the sharp crack of ice under pressure.
Kyle’s
hand grips mine harder.
We run faster.
I don’t know if the ice is breaking under us or the trucks, but I don’t stop to figure it out. I sprint for the shore with all the strength my legs can muster. I release a relieved laugh/sob when my feet hit dry land.
Kyle blows past me, stalking toward the crowd at the edge of the water. He spots the outsiders right away. They’re older. Bigger. Richer. Totally unconcerned with us and the other people running in off the ice.
“What the hell, man?” he demands of a guy with a big, furry jacket on.
The guy looks at him like he’s confused. “What’s your problem?”
“What’s yours? You morons could have killed somebody out there.”
“Relax. It’s fine.”
“Oh, is it?” Kyle replies sarcastically. My stomach knots when he gets up in the guy’s face, nearly chest-to-chest. “It doesn’t feel fine.”
The guy looks him up and down slowly. “Are you looking for a fight, townie?”
“It definitely seems like you are.”
“I’ll mess you up, kid.”
“You wanna go?” Kyle unzips his jacket, tossing it onto the rocks at his feet. “Let’s go.”
“Kyle,” I call softly, not really sure why. It’s not like he’s going to listen to me. I just feel like I have to do something. Say something. I don’t want to see him get into a fight.
I’m shocked when he pauses, turning to look at me.
I smile, trembling and frail. “Let’s just go, okay? Leave it. Please.”
“You should listen to your girl,” the guy tells him bitterly.
Kyle holds my eyes for a second longer before turning back to him. “Yeah, I think I will.” He takes a slow, easy step away. His demeanor has changed completely. He’s gone from angry to chill in the blink of an eye. “You have a good night, alright?”
The guy stares after him, confused. “Whatever, man.”
Kyle grabs his jacket off the ground. He reaches out for me, offering me his hand.
I don’t hesitate to hurry forward to take it.
“It’s not worth it, Rixton,” Scott tells him as we move in close to the fire. “These guys do this stuff all the time. They think they own the whole town.”
Kyle nods stiffly. “Get everyone out of here, okay? We’re all leaving.”
“Definitely. No one wants to stay with them around.”
“And no one wants to be here when the cops show up.”
Scott frowns. “Who called the cops?”
“No one.” He smiles wickedly. “Not yet.”
Everyone from Roosevelt clears out quickly. We don’t bother putting out the fire. It would take too long and it’s more damning for the jerks we’re leaving on the shore. We dump the keg and every Solo cup on the ground as well. Let them get a littering charge in addition to trespassing and whatever ticket the cops will dream up for the drag race making its way across the lake.
It’s not our problem. We were never here.
chapter nine
This morning Kyle hugged me hello. It’s the first physical connection we’ve made aside from holding hands, something we’ve done every day since the night on the lake when he read my hesitance. He seems to understand that I need to take it slow. That was a week ago but it feels like a year. I feel like I’ve known Kyle forever. He hugged me again as we were saying goodbye this afternoon, and the solid feel of his body wrapped around mine is like every promise ever made. It feels safe and good. It feels right. So right, we’ve been standing in my driveway ‘saying goodbye’ with an embrace that never feels like it’s going to end. I don’t think either of us wants it to.
“Are you cold?” he asks quietly, his voice vibrating in his chest against my cheek.
I smile at how obvious the answer to that is. “I’m always cold.”
“Do you need to go?”
“No. Do you?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to.” His arms shift on my waist, hanging loose and comfortable against my hips. “I’m good right here.”
“You have that Spanish speech to finish.”
“I’ll get it done.”
“Do you want help?”
“How would you help?” he chuckles, his body shaking us both. “You’re taking French.”
“They’re both romance languages. They’re practically the same.”
“The way that English and German are ‘practically the same’.”
“They’re close enough.”
“I don’t think Señora Gilbert would agree with you.”
“What does she know?”
“I’ll ask her for you in my speech.”
“Please don’t. Gilbert and Mademoiselle Harrington are friends. I don’t want to get flunked for sassing my French teacher’s friend.”
“I think they’re more than friends,” Kyle mumbles.
I cock my head at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they’re close. Real close.”
“So?”
A smile flickers across his face. “Grace, I’m saying they’re tight.”
“Tight how? I’m not getting it.”
“They’re Ellen and Portia tight.”
I shrug. “Those names don’t mean anything to me. What are you saying?”
“Are you messing with me?” he asks suspiciously.
“No,” I lie, but I can’t stop the smile that sneaks its way onto my face. “I’m so confused, Kyle.”
He chuckles, stepping back from me. “Okay, you’re messing with me.”
“A little bit.”
“You know they’re lesbians?”
“What’s a lesbian?”
“Alright,” he laughs, shaking his head in mock disgust.
I smile, poking him in his rigid stomach. “Got you.”
“You’re very funny,” he says sarcastically.
“Thank you.”
“Maybe I should take another girl out tonight. Someone less ‘funny’.”
“Okay, cool,” I tell him easily. I pull my keys from my pocket, turning toward my door. “Have fun with your lame date.”
Before I can get the key in the lock, Kyle’s arms are around me. He pulls me laughingly to him, brushing my hair from my face so he can see me smiling. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
“An ex-boyfriend?”
“And my dentist. Apparently I liked to bite as a kid.”
“Do you still bite?”
I grin. “You never know.”
“One way to find out.”
Kyle smiles nervously. It’s a strange color on him. He’s usually so confident, but as he looks down into my eyes, his head lowering just enough to tell me what he has planned, he looks unsure for a second.
I feel myself blush. It’s a softer shade than the first time I met him when I saw his dimples and heard his voice and lost a piece of myself to the possibility of him. It’s more muted in color but it runs deeper down inside me than anything ever has before. I feel it tickling in my toes and my fingers. I feel it buzzing softly in the back of my brain.
I close my eyes when he closes his. I lean into the pull of his arms around my body, lacing my arms tighter around his neck. When his lips touch mine, they feel like a blowtorch inside me. I’m burning up from the heat of him. From the gentle motion of his mouth moving over mine. He doesn’t try to put his tongue in my mouth, but he coaxes it open with his lips until our breath collides in a cloud of warmth and want between us. I gasp at how intimate it feels. I’m breathing his breath. The life in his body has found its way into mine and I’m drunk on it. I’m on fire and frozen at the same time, melting into a puddle on the sidewalk.
Kyle’s hands are splayed on my back. Two warm fingers have slipped up under my coat and shirt, touching my bare skin. I don’t know if that was on purpose or an accident, and I don’t care. I like it. I like the way his chest presses almost painfully into mine. I like the way he mo
ans slightly when I thread my fingers through his thick hair. I like the way he tastes and feels and touches me, kisses me, holds me. So much so, I feel a telltale coiling in my stomach, the way I felt the first time Mark touched my breasts. I liked it but it made me uneasy. Nothing about Kyle makes me feel uneasy. Not anymore. He feels comfortable in a way I didn’t think a guy could. His kiss makes me feel languid. It makes me feel like warm clay under his touch.
Kyle lowers his head just a hair, just enough to break our lips from each other, but he doesn’t go far. He laughs breathily, the air hot on my skin. “Okay, now I really have to go.”
“Why?” I ask, almost pleading.
“Because of how bad I want to stay.”
Kyle kisses me again. Just once, so quick it’s almost nothing, but it feels as big as a mountain in my chest. I’ll take it with me, like a promise.
He backs away slowly, smiling at me all lopsided and strange. “I’ll see you later, Grace.”
“Bye, Kyle.”
When I get inside the house, I’m smiling. I can’t stop it. My face is its own entity with its own mind and I have no control over the muscles inside it. Luckily, no one is around to ask questions I don’t feel like answering. Dad is still asleep upstairs and Mom and Ashley aren’t home yet. I have time to sit on the couch and answer the eight million texts that Makena has been sending all afternoon.
Has he broken down and told you where you guys are going tonight?
I tried to get it out of Scott but he’s not telling. He says he doesn’t know but that’s bull. He and Kyle are like best friends. He knows!
He said it has to do with the mountain tho
Is he taking you to dinner at the lodge?
That place is expensive! That’s an insane first date
That’s like Prom dinner kind of fancy
He must be really into you
Seriously where are you? What are you going to wear?
How do you dress for a date that you don’t know anything about?
We have to find out what he has planned!
I take a deep breath after reading the novel she’s sent me. I don’t know what he has planned. He won’t tell me. I’m just going to wear what I wore to school.
Lame! she answers immediately, like she’s been waiting with her phone in her hand. You cannot do that. At least tell me you’re putting on makeup.