It keeps Summer in my eyesight so we don’t get split apart (this one’s a stretch. I know).
But there’s onemajorreason why this position is a bad idea.
I like holding Summer in my arms.
And that’s when I know I’m in trouble. Like I’m-falling-for-my-brother’s-girlfriend-and-I-don’t-even-care kind of trouble. Families break apart over this kind of stuff all the time. It’s a dangerous, dangerous road. And even though I feel myself being sucked in by Summer’s charms, I don’t turn off the vacuum. I don’t distance myself from her force. Instead, I keep coming back for more.
twenty-five
SUMMER
The gondolabetween downtown Telluride and Mountain Village fits eight to ten people comfortably. After the ski tree lighting, my family crams into one gondola to head up the mountain to the ice-skating rink. Our gondola has twenty people in it. Yes, half of them are my nieces and nephews with little bodies, but that doesn’t make things less crowded. So, when it was time for me to take a seat, nothing was left except a spot on Caleb’s lap. This is the second time I’ve had to sit on his lap in less than a week. I feel like I’m in a never-ending game of musical chairs, and I keep losing.Or winning depending on if you ask my head or my heart.
When I sit on Caleb this time, I forgo the awkwardness and scoot into his lap so we’re both comfortable. I’m also forced to wrap my arm around his shoulder.Forced?It’s not like there’s a gun to my head, but placing my arm around him was a space-saving move that had to be done.
The lights from the houses below and how the moon glows over the majestic San Juan mountains make everything extra.
Extra magical.
Extra fun.
Extraromantic.
But it’s fine because we’re not alone. We’re with my family, singing Christmas carols. So, nothing about how Caleb’s thumb rests against my thigh, how his warm breath hits my neck, the up close and personal view of his jaw, or the sensational smell of his cologne is romantic or thrilling.
It’s just a normal family outing with regular heartbeats.Yep, my heartalwaysbeats this fast and heavy.
Miles gets a little too animated with his singing, bouncing up and down in his seat. He bumps into Caleb, pushing his fingers into the tips of mine. And since I removed my gloves for the gondola ride—like an idiot—that skin-to-skin contact destroys me. It’s not like Caleb and I haven’t held hands before, because we have. But things are different tonight and the light brush of his hand against mine feels like I’m holding my fingers inside an electrical socket. How long do I have to keep my hand here until I can pull away without my mom being suspicious? Because we all know she purposely sat next to us to keep tabs on our relationship.
When a boisterous version of “Jingle Bells” starts, I inconspicuously pull my hand back, shoving it in my coat pocket as if my fingers need more warmth, which is hilarious since Caleb’s touch creates my own personal bonfire. I could ditch every layer I’m wearing and still be overheated.
It’s notCaleb. It’s just this time of year and the glowing lights and the fact that I’ve felt so lonely lately with Justin’s work schedule. That’s what it is. That’s what ithasto be.
“We’re almost to the top,” my dad says from his spot next to my mom. But she’s so eager to look out the window at the station that she twists her body, bumping into my arm that’s draped across Caleb. My fingers brush against the side of his neck, and it’s like a jolt goes through his body. A massive shiver shakes us both, and he lifts his shoulder to his neck, where my fingers skimmed.
“Sorry,” he says in response to his earthquake of a shiver.
I can’t help but smile. “Are you ticklish?”
“Something like that.” His blue eyes meet mine. His stare is full of so much passion, I’d be a fool to think that shiver had anything to do with him being ticklish. We’re sitting close. We’re like eyeball to eyeball, which should be awkward, but instead, the stare-down is charged with chemistry and heat and everything it’s not supposed to be charged with. Attraction fizzles through my chest.
Thankfully, everything pops when the gondola doors open.
* * *
Caleb lookslike a giant panda on the ice—clumsy, always falling, ending his fall with a roll. I literally have to cross my legs, one over the other, so I don’t pee my pants from how hard I’ve been laughing.
He gets to his knees, using the wall for support to climb to a stand. “I’m embarrassed at how bad I am at this.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile, slowly skating a circle in place. “This is a judge-free zone.”
“But you’re totally judging me, right?”
“Absolutely.” I smirk. “I thought a guy as athletic as you would be able to stay on his feet.”
He holds onto the wall, walking on his blades instead of skating. “We haven’t talked about what you really think of my job.”
“Is this the part of the night where you’re hoping I’ll shower you with compliments?”
