Page 18 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Grace wrung her hands as she continued apologizing, “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for repairs.”

Elara shook her head and waved off Grace’s apology. “It’sfine. Please don’t worry about paying for anything. I own the place, remember?”

Grace looked utterly petrified at the disaster before her as she turned to the instructor. “I probably should stay behind, huh?”

He scoffed. “Well, I’m certainly not letting you drive one of these off into the woods. You’ll have to ride along with someone.”

Grace stumbled through excuses as to why she should stay behind, but Elara cut her off. “No chance. You’re riding with me. Let’s go.”

Grace huffed as she unsteadily walked with Elara back to the group. The instructor continued his quick safety lesson as the group donned their gear. Elara turned to Grace, watching her hand tremble as she put her helmet on. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and helped Grace.

“Hey now, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. What’s done is done. Please don’t worry about that snowmobile. I can’t tell you how many tourists damage those things every season. It’s not a big deal,” Elara reassured.

Grace looked up at Elara, relief washing over her face.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, stop worrying and try to have fun. Snowmobiling is thrilling. I’ll be driving, so you have nothing to worry about. Just hold on tight.”

Grace closed her eyes, gathering her courage as she repeated, “Hold on tight.”

Elara smiled. “You got it. When I turn, lean into the turn with me. Just follow my lead.”

The snowmobiles roared to life, sending clouds of white powder spraying into the crisp morning air. The cold bit at Elara’s face, but it was invigorating. With Grace seated behind her, arms hesitantly wrapped around her waist, Elara gripped the handlebars and eased them forward. The engine hummed beneath them, vibrating through her gloves, and the snow crunched under the tracks as they glided out into the open terrain.

They followed the group along a narrow trail, flanked by towering, snow-covered pines. The wind sliced across her cheeks, sharp and refreshing, but Elara barely felt the chill. All she was aware of was Grace, pressed against her back, clinging a little tighter than necessary.

When they hit a gentle slope, Elara felt Grace shift, leaning with her as instructed, her warm breath brushing against Elara’s neck despite the cold. The sensation sent a spark down Elara’s spine—unexpected and almost unsettling.

“You okay back there?” Elara called over the hum of the engine.

Grace’s helmet tapped against hers as she leaned forward to respond. “Still alive!”

Elara couldn’t help but smile, something warm unfurling in her chest. She revved the engine a little, just to see if Grace would squeal—and she did, a startled laugh spilling from her lips. The sound was bright and unguarded, and it made Elara’s heart twist.

As they picked up speed, the world around them transformed into a blur of glistening snowdrifts and pine branches weighed down with frost. Every turn made Grace shift closer, her arms tightening instinctively, her body moving in sync with Elara’s. The pressure of Grace’s hands on her waist and the way herthighs pressed into hers sent Elara’s thoughts scattering, making it hard to focus. The touch was innocent, yet it felt intimate—too intimate for something that was supposed to be fake.

They caught up with the rest of the group in a wide-open meadow, the sun reflecting off the untouched snow in a blinding shimmer. Elara slowed the snowmobile to a stop, feeling Grace’s arms relax but not let go. Cate and her husband glided past them, laughing effortlessly, followed by James and his wife, picture-perfect in their matching winter gear.

Watching her siblings, Elara felt a familiar pang—jealousy, resentment, and that old ache of never quite being what her family wanted. Cate with her happy, chaotic family, and James with his glamorous wife—both fitting neatly into the Silver family mold. And here she was, still trying to convince herself and everyone else that she belonged.

A glance toward her mother caught Margaret’s gaze, and Elara’s stomach tightened. Her mother’s polite smile never wavered, but her eyes flicked to Grace with quiet judgment. Elara’s jaw clenched. No matter how well Grace played her part, it would never be enough. Elara would never be enough.

Grace leaned closer, sensing the shift in Elara’s mood. “You good?” she asked softly, her breath warming the edge of Elara’s ear through the helmet.

Elara exhaled slowly, forcing her tension to melt with the cold. “Yeah,” she replied, softer than she intended. “Let’s keep going.”

They started the snowmobile again, weaving through snowy hills and shadowed forests. Elara’s mind drifted as they rode, but Grace’s presence was constant—a steady warmth against the winter cold. For once, Elara didn’t feel entirely alone.

By the time they returned to the lodge, the sun was dipping low, casting the snow in shades of gold and lavender. Grace dismounted with a breathless grin, snowflakes caught in herhair. Elara watched, her heart doing a strange, unsettling dance in her chest.

Elara silently helped Grace out of the safety gear, savoring the way her fingers could lightly touch Grace’s throat as she unclipped her helmet. Elara quietly took the helmet, assessing every inch of Grace’s face, hoping for some sign that she wasn’t alone in this feeling. Grace silently looked up at her, an unspoken question in her eyes Elara couldn’t quite decipher.

Victor chose that moment to walk up, breaking their reverie. “Well, Elara, I have to give it to you. This was an outstanding choice today. A near-perfect outing”—he looked pointedly at Grace—“if it weren’t for the mishap at the beginning.”

Grace’s face fell, and Elara felt the shared moment between them dissolve into nothingness.

Later that evening, Elara found herself standing in the suite’s foyer waiting on Grace again. Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, she inspected her reflection. Smoothing down the lapels of the charcoal-gray velvet blazer, Elara felt more than a little pleased at the way the black slacks and matching black shirt complimented the blazer, making her look as if she had stepped out of the ashes of a fire extinguisher. Her normally straight chin-length hair was slicked back, accenting the diamond earrings that shone bright in comparison. Every piece was expertly chosen, dripping in exquisitely intricate detail, down to the silver embroidery on the cuffs of her black sleeves.

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