"Jesus!" he yelps, curling in on himself. "What the fuck, Sophie?"
"Cheating has consequences," I pant, scrambling to my feet. I somehow manage to detangle my poles and reattach my skis without landing on my face. Don't ask me how. I can't even feel my legs right now.
He's still writhing in the snow, clutching his balls. I don't feel guilty. At least, not very much. He's the one who crashed us into a snowbank.
"See you at the bottom, cheater." I plant my poles and take off.
I'm whooping as I get to the last stretch, the muscles in my thighs quivering. It's ridiculous. I can stay en pointe for hours, but one damn mountain, and my thighs are ready to tap out.
The bottom of the slope is in sight when I hit a patch of ice.
I'm not sure if the world goes sideways or if I do, but I absolutely obliterate a small spruce, my arms pinwheeling, my skis ejecting in opposite directions. All the air leaves my lungs in a single, humiliating whoosh as I hit the ground, sinking into the snow.
I'm alive, but I can't breathe. It's fine, though. Oxygen is overrated anyway. And I'm perfectly content to lie here, staring at the sky. I can be a speed bump on the course.
"Sophie!"
There's a massive rumble, and then Harlan is on top of me, his expression nothing but panic and terror.
"Don't you dare be dead," he rasps, his voice cracking. "Don't you fucking dare."
He rips off my helmet, then my goggles, and buries his face in my neck. "Breathe," he commands. "Goddammit, Sophie, please—"
I suck in a ragged gasp. "I'm…fine," I wheeze, even though I can't feel my ass and I think my eyelashes are frozen together. "You…cheating…asshole."
I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of his relief. It's half a groan, half a choked sob. He hauls me upright, cradling my head in his hands. The way he inspects my face makes my throat tight.
His big, rough hands shake like he can't quite get himself under control. I don't know what to do with that. I've never seen him anything but sure, steady, and infuriatingly immovable. Seeing him look at me like he's seconds from losing his mind shreds whatever stubborn pride was holding the rest of my anger together.
It just…dissolves, floating away like I never felt it at all. When it does, I'm left facing the truth I've been trying to run from.
He matters. He matters more than anyone ever has. And I don't have the first clue what to do about that, not when the thought alone scares the shit out of me. Not when it might change everything.
I'm not sure I'm ready to face the implications of that. Love is easy when I'm faking it on stage. Even when it gets messy or tragic, it ends when the curtain closes. In reality, there is no shutting it off at the end of the night. If it goes bad, you don't get to curtsey and call it a day. You have to feel it.
And I have a feeling there will be a whole lot of bad if whatever is between us gets messy.
People think I'm brave or strong or whatever, but they're wrong.
I'm just a girl who loves to dance. And I'm one stubborn enough to dance even when everyone says I shouldn't.
I've never been one courageous enough to risk her heart.
I don't even know how to be that girl.
Something about Harlan makes me want to find out how, though. And that's why he's so dangerous.
He makes me want to be brave.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, his voice shaking. "I thought you were dead, Sophie."
"I told you I'm not breakable," I say, but I'm shaking so hard, my teeth chatter. "Just…ugh. Don't let go. I'm…just…"
He wraps his whole body around me, tucking me into his chest. "You're not leaving my sight for the rest of the trip," he swears.
"You're not the boss of me," I say, but it comes out soft. Weak.
He tips my chin up with his hand, then kisses me so gently I want to cry.