Page 57 of Late Nights

Cannon

Demi’s arms were wrapped around my waist, her upper body pressed against my back, her thighs resting against my legs as we flew through the trees, following where the trail led.

West and Halle were in front, with Jax and Kate in the middle, Demi and I bringing up the rear. Jax wasn’t as used to driving snowmobiles as West and me, so we wanted to make sure he didn’t get left behind or have any issues.

Gavin had thankfully bowed out of joining us on the remaining activities planned for the weekend, claiming that since we knew the trails around the house, we wouldn’t need him to be our guide, but if we had any questions he’d be happy to help. Now that he was gone, I felt a tinge of guilt at how he’d overheard my conversation with Demi at the ski lodge but not enough to wish it hadn’t happened.

As we continued along the trail, I wondered if Jax was enjoying having Kate so close, since I was enjoying every second of having Demi pressed up against me.

This was the first time she and I had ever ridden together. Every other time we’d gone snowmobiling, she’d either driven her own or ridden with West. Having her this close after things had shifted so much between us—with how we’d almost kissed, how I had expressed my feelings and told her about my childhood, and how hard it had been not to kiss her last night—everywhere her body touched mine felt like an electrical current.

Last night, it had taken more willpower than I thought I had to not pull her flush against me and kiss her the way I’d thought about way more than I’d like to admit. Opening up to her, being vulnerable with her in a way I wasn’t used to, had given me a sense of freedom, if only for a few minutes. After being close to her emotionally, it had made the desire to be close to her physically even stronger.

I still couldn’t believe I’d told her about my parents, about growing up in a nightmare, about how I was broken when it came to relationships. She’d listened, she’d comforted me, and she hadn’t seemed deterred by my story. But that was probably because she hadn’t had time to process everything I had told her. She hadn’t had time to realize there were parts of me that she shouldn’t have to deal with, and as much fun as we had been having, it could never last. It wouldn’t take her long to recognize we were better off in the end just remaining friends.

We came to a fork in the trail, and West went to the left, surprising me. We normally chose the right trail, which leads to a large clearing that is my favorite part of this ride. Going right will eventually get you back to the main trail, the detour making the ride a little longer but I had always thought it was worth it. At the last second, I veered to the right, leaving our small group as I picked up speed. Demi’s arms gently squeezed around my waist, and I hoped it was her way of telling me she approved of my decision.

When the clearing came into view, I slowed the machine down, pulling slightly off the trail and bringing us to a stop. I pulled off my helmet and goggles, setting them down in front of me. Demi did the same, looking out at the pristine snow stretching out before us, mountains and tall pine trees surrounding us.

“This has always been my favorite part of this trail,” she said quietly, as if she didn’t want to disturb the quiet beauty. “I’m glad you decided to go rogue.”

I smiled. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

She swung off the snowmobile and set her helmet and goggles on the back of the machine. As she walked out to the untouched snow, I knew exactly what she was doing, and I loved that I knew it.

“You finding a good place to put your name?” I grinned.

She turned back to me. “You know I do it every year. But West isn’t here, so you’re going to have to do his part.”

I knew she did it every year. Since she was little, long before I ever met her, she’d always use her feet to stamp out her name in the snow, at least once a trip in the winter. She would pack down the snow for one letter and then West would pick her up moving her to do the next letter so there wouldn’t be a trail of footprints from one letter to the next.

I got off the snowmobile and made my way over to her, shaking my head. “You know you’re tall enough now that you could probably step wide enough not to leave a trail between the letters.” I was only pretending I was put out at having to lift her, but actually I couldn’t wait to hold her. And I planned to hold her in a very different way than West.

She looked at me in mock horror, her mouth gaping wide. “And ruin twenty plus years of tradition? Never.”

I chuckled and watched her stomp and shuffle her feet, making a large “D” in the snow, probably taller than her if she were to lie down next to it.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she came to the bottom of the “D,” expecting me to grab her around the waist and lift her straight up, setting her back down a few feet away for the next letter. Instead I dipped, catching her behind the legs with one arm and holding her upper body with the other, cradling her against my chest.

She let out a small gasp, her cheeks flushing—and not from the cold. “This isn’t the way West holds me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your brother.” My voice came out low, and her eyes flashed with surprise—and was that heat?—at the meaning of my words.

“I’m well aware of that,” she said, a little breathless.

She felt small in my arms. Her petite frame felt like nothing, even with all her snow gear.

I held her tighter against me as I moved my feet from side to side, walking horizontally. “Are you sure? I seem to recall you telling West I was like a brother to you.” I was well aware she didn’t think of me as a brother, maybe never had, but it didn’t stop me from teasing her, wondering what she would say in response.

She shrugged before I put her down in the snow. She started working on the “E,” keeping her focus on her feet. “I lied.”

“Demi Vanderhall,” I said in mock astonishment. “Are you telling me you lied to get me alone in the apartment?”

Her head snapped up. “What? No!”

I worked to keep a grin from appearing at her reaction. “How do I know you’re not lying again?” I teased. The grin I’d been trying to keep at bay was now out in full-force. “I don’t know if I can trust anything you say.”

The next thing I knew, a snowball hit me in the chest. She’d bent down so fast, I hadn’t had time to move, and she took me completely by surprise.

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