Page 35 of Born in the Spring

We all look down at Skylar, who’s pouting up atme, the guy dashing his hopes, and I soften to him, mustering a smile to do the same with my tone. He’s a good kid. It’s not his fault Tripp’s his father.

And that thought’s going to do it for me. I put a sock in my mouth and watch Elara, waiting for her to say she’ll talk it over with my mom. And I tell myself she wouldn’t be doing it for Tripp; she’d be doing it for his son.

Skylar isn’t the only kid around here who loves her. They all do. She’s great with them.

She’ll be a great mom,Shepherd’s voice comes back to me.I can’t wait to make her one.

And she’ll make you a dad.

My vision almost blackens, narrowing to the floor, my breathing turning shallow at this hit of a memory I’ve managed to keep to the back of my mind until now.

It was before the night he told me he’d planned to propose. A couple weeks before he died. Another memory lying in wait.

“We’ll figure something out,” Elara says to Skylar’s begging eyes, running a finger down his cheek and completely transforming his pout to the widest beam, like she’s just given him everything he’s ever wanted.

A silent laugh shakes through the weight still in my chest. I’ve sported that look with her too.

My smile folds in tight once I glance back up at Tripp, who’s also beaming at Elara.

“Daddy, sledding!” Skylar yanks on Tripp’s hand, his five-year-old attention span doing me a favor by taking his father away.

“It’s nice seeing you, Elara,” Tripp says as he passes her,Skylar yanking the whole way, and he gives me one last pitying stare before he’s a more tolerable distance away.

Elara responds with just a smile and a nod, not saying it’s nice to see him back, and I feel myself stand taller, my stare stuck to his back as he walks out.

My lungs start working right the moment he’s gone, my pulse steadying and my pain easing the moment Elara leans into me, giving me a gentle nudge to look at her, steadying and lightening me more with her gaze.

“I came here for you,” she tells me, with enough emphasis to separate me from Tripp, before throwing me off from those close, murmured words I’m making deeper than they probably are—here, to the lodge, right now—and straight to the reason. “I thought I’d head out on the board for a while. What do you say? Wanna go together?”

Now I’m nodding, my returning smile folding in again, but in an amused and appreciative way. “Fuck.” I breathe a laugh, taking a quick look around to make sure the other kids nearby didn’t catch that burst. “Of course I wanna say yes when it’s you.”

“You never had to say no.”

My eyes trace the encouraging lift in her brows, drifting down over the freckles on her cheeks, drifting down more to the pointed slight pucker of her lips, and I sigh, melting for her.

Feeling eyes on us—more people wanting to stick their nose in my problems—I guide Elara outside with my hand on the small of her back. Because I always need to touch her. And she keeps her back pressed against my palm until I myself pull back once we’re at the railing, where we both lean forward, our bodies close and arms brushing.

“It changed,” I say, and with anyone else, it would be justthe start, but with Elara, I don’t have to explain all the ways, because she already hears them.

“You have to find a new way to turn everyone off,” she tells me. “Because when you’re out there, nothing matters butbeingout there. You’re doing what you love, and that’s it. You’re doing whatyouhave worked for and you won’t let anyone take that from you.” I meet her gaze at those choice of words, seeing that purpose in her eyes, and my cheek creases with hers as she adds, “I see you. I know you better than that.”

I groan back out toward the landscape, watching a mom and a dad lift and swing their kid between them. “I don’t have to be a snowboarder.” It’s been a questioning, quiet thought that’s now coming out loud for an answer, regardless of Elara’s assurances, this one insecurity always needing more until it decides it’s satisfied until next time. “I don’t have to do what my brother did.”

“You don’t,” she says, with patience in her voice. “But when it’s something you love, you have to let it go for the right reasons. You don’t want to quit.”

My focus shifts just a bit to the right, toward Elara, but gets snagged on Tripp and Skylar, off in the distance, still away but still in sight.

“It’s not mine,” that insecurity argues. “It became mine after being his.”

“Itisyours, Jasper. Fight for it.”

Fight for you?asks my head as I meet her gaze again. And after a moment of her eyes dancing between mine, she looks down at her hands, wrapped together like mine are, as if she knows I’m diving deeper than the surface of what we’re actually talking about.

These moments, of her holding her gaze to mine, lastlonger than they used to. I know she loves my eyes. She told me. Once. It slipped past her lips like the best accident. And, as if her own head is telling her she can’t, I want to tell her that shecankeep looking back. She can fall right into me.

“Come out with me.” Her tone is light now, like she’s trying to air away the last few seconds, shaking her hair from her face as she looks back up. “Let’s do our first ride of the season together.”

“I don’t need you to hold my hand,” I say down to both of mine, my throat feeling every word, more out of my own frustration from these rushing thoughts, so many things coming to me, from her, and nowIwant to air away the last few seconds.

---