Page 72 of First Echo

I ended up on my back, Madeline sprawled on top of me, her hair dusted with snow, her eyes bright with exhilaration. She was laughing so hard she could barely speak, her whole bodyshaking with it, and the sight was so beautiful it made my chest ache.

"You're a menace," she gasped when she finally caught her breath, making no move to disentangle herself from me.

“Oh you loved it," I countered, reaching up to brush snow from her cheek, letting my fingers linger against her skin.

"I literally thought we were going to die."

I grinned, unrepentant. "If we had, at least you died clinging to me. Not a bad way to go."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile that was equal parts exasperation and affection.

"You're really proud of that one, huh?"

"A little," I admitted, reveling in the way she rolled her eyes, in the easy banter between us that felt both familiar and new.

"You should be," she said, shifting slightly so she was more comfortably positioned on top of me, her elbows resting on either side of my head. "That was almost smooth."

"Almost?" I challenged, letting my hands settle on her hips, anchoring her against me.

Her smile turned playful, teasing. "You're lucky I like a little chaos," she said, her eyes dropping to my lips in a way that made my heart skip.

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face, couldn't contain the surge of happiness that welled up inside me. "Very lucky," I agreed, my voice softer now, more sincere.

And then I kissed her.

Not like last night—desperate, hungry, driven by months of denial and pent-up tension. This was different. Deliberate. Chosen. A kiss in full daylight, with the sun warm on our faces and the snow cold beneath us and the whole world spread out around us.

I kissed her slowly, savoring the softness of her lips, the small sound she made in the back of her throat as she melted againstme. My hands came up to frame her face, fingers tangling in her hair, holding her close as if she might disappear if I let go. Her weight on top of me was grounding, perfect, like she belonged there.

She smiled into the kiss, a curve of lips against mine that filled me with a happiness so intense it was almost painful. I couldn't stop, couldn't get enough of her—the taste of her, the feel of her, the reality of Madeline Hayes in my arms in broad daylight, choosing this, choosing me.

We stayed like that, trading unhurried kisses as the snow melted beneath us, soaking into our clothes, until the chill finally became impossible to ignore. Madeline pulled back, her lips reddened from our kisses, her eyes soft with something I was afraid to name.

"We should get up," she murmured, though she made no move to do so. "Before we freeze to death."

"In a minute," I said, stealing one more kiss, then another, unable to let her go just yet.

She laughed against my mouth, a sound of pure joy that I felt in every cell of my body. "So bossy," she teased, but she didn't pull away, didn't resist as I rolled us over so she was beneath me, snow flying up around us.

"You like it when I’m bossy don’t you?,” I countered, hovering over her, drinking in the sight of her—cheeks flushed, hair fanned out against the snow, looking up at me with eyes so bright they put the winter sky to shame.

"Maybe," she admitted, hooking a leg around mine, pulling me closer. “Just a little."

This time when we kissed, there was more heat to it, more urgency. Her hands slipped beneath my jacket, cold against my skin, making me gasp. I retaliated by nipping at her lower lip, soothing the slight sting with my tongue. She arched against me,a soft sound escaping her that made my whole body tighten with want.

"We should get back to the toboggan," I managed to say when we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard. "One more run before we have to head back."

She nodded, looking as dazed as I felt, as reluctant to move. "One more," she agreed, her voice husky in a way that made it hard to remember why we should stop kissing at all.

We helped each other up, brushing snow from our clothes, stealing kisses between attempts to make ourselves presentable. It was futile—we were both soaked, disheveled, flushed in a way that had little to do with the cold and everything to do with each other. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except this moment, this perfect bubble of happiness we'd carved out for ourselves.

We trudged back up the hill, hand in hand, the toboggan dragging behind us. The climb was harder than it had looked from the bottom, our legs burning with the effort, but we kept going, spurring each other on with playful taunts and promises of what would happen when we reached the top.

And then we did it all over again—the rush down the hill, the tumble at the bottom, the tangle of limbs and laughter and kisses that seemed to stretch time into eternity.

For most of my life, I'd kept people at a distance, built walls to protect myself from the pain of loss, from the vulnerability of caring too much. But here, with Madeline, those walls felt unnecessary, even unwanted. I wanted her to see me—all of me, not just the guarded, sarcastic exterior I showed the world.

And more incredibly, I wanted to see her—the real Madeline beneath the perfect facade, the girl who laughed until she snorted, who clung to me on a toboggan ride, who kissed me like I was something precious she'd been searching for all along.

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