Chapter 14: Ski Apache, Part 2

"Kalista," said an echo.

It took never-ending seconds to finally open my eyes and come into the light. Tristan. He was kneeling close to my side, his face a few inches from mine. And in the middle of the haziness, something caught my eye. His eyes looked surreal, with streaks of silver, like beams of light over a gray ocean. The green haunting the depths an electric emerald.

"Oh no," I sighed, pushing up myself with my weak elbows. "I'm dead."

He chuckled, relieved. "No, you're not."

I stared at him, mystified. He had to be an angel...and those eyes. "Then why are you here?"

He didn't say anything and only kept staring at me.

I noticed an acute pain pulsing in the right side of my forehead. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and tasted blood. I realized my whole body was in pain, especially my chest. I couldn't be dead. Heaven wasn't supposed to be painful. "I'm not dead, then," I whispered. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you were the one who was going to tell me. I just found you here."

I shook my head and saw the pines next to us, just a few inches away. "I fell from the sled and...I was about to smash against the trees when I-when I bumped into something and started rolling until I stopped." I looked at the pines once more. "I'm safe." I said in awe.

Another silence fell upon us.

"I'm sorry I didn't come on time," he finally said.

I turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, as if he was in pain. To my surprise, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But, "Wait a minute-" I said confused, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes snapped open, hesitant. "Snowboarding."

I looked aside and saw his fancy snowboard burrowed into the snow. "How did you get here?"

"On the lift."

"The lift is not running."

He leaned toward me, his eyes-now normal, maybe I'd imagined them-close to mine. Really, really close. "You're not the only one who has connections over here."

My heart began to pound. "Um..." I forgot how to speak. "I-I don't have connections. It's Dean."

"Right." He said in a low, sharp voice, still oh-so close to me.

"I saw the liftline stop," I insisted.

He held the close distance between our faces a few more seconds and then leaned back, face tight. "It didn't."

My face flushed to a deeper shade. "Are you saying that I'm a liar?"

"More like a space cadet," he said, a smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

Why did everyone keep telling me that? "I wasn't spaced out." I tried to get up, hot fury infusing strength into my tremulous body. I placed my hands on the frosty surface for support and grimaced. "Oww," I looked down at my stiff hands.

"What's the matter?"

"It's my hands." I said, fighting to stretch my fingers. They felt heavy, like rocks. I couldn't close them. They hurt in a strange way.

"Let me help you." He held out his palm to me.

I leaned back. "I'm perfectly capable of standing up by myself." I knew I looked pretty weak, but I wasn't some damsel in distress. I didn't need a guy to help me.

"That wasn't what I meant," he said with a warm smile.

My icy bravado melted. He was so beautiful that it was a felony.

Okay, maybe I was weak.

"Can I have your hands?" he asked in a courteous manner. I gave them to him without thinking, hypnotized. He smiled and held them softly. His hands were warm. The contact with his velvety skin-even over the numb surface of my rock-solid hands-sent tingling waves to my arms. I hadn't noticed how beautiful his long fingers were, like pianist's hands.

"They're frozen," he said, looking down at my hands. "It's like I'm touching a corpse's hands."

The word 'touching' shot a flock of butterflies to my stomach. "What are you trying to do?" It looked like he was doing something strenuous.

"A heat transfer." He looked at me. "Your hands need to gain thermal stability, or you might lose them."

I widened my eyes in shock.

"I'm not going to let that happen." He smiled.

He seemed an entirely different person from the one I'd seen these last couple of days. It was like he'd never stopped talking to me. Maybe Owen was right. Maybe he was bipolar. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, lost in his beautiful face.

He locked his intense eyes with mine. "Why shouldn't I?"

I tried to give an answer, but his strong gaze made me lightheaded. I lowered my eyes in a flush of embarrassment.

"Are your hands feeling better?" he asked. And strangely, in that second, my hands started tingling with those same dots of electricity in my fingertips. I could feel them again.

"Try to stretch your fingers," he said as he pulled back his hands quickly. Had he felt the electric dots as well?

I stretched my fingers, slowly, giving them time to readjust. Amazing. I could feel the blood pulsing in my palms. The numbing pain was gone. "I can move them."

"I'm glad," he said, his tone tender.

I raised my eyes in surrender. "Thank you." I blushed. "You saved my hands."

"Don't forget the dog," he added.

"The wolfdog."

He grinned. "Yes, the wolfdog."

We shared a smile, our eyes touched by a beautiful, unique sparkle, and the air between us suddenly filled with...something, something so intense it sent sharp prickles to my chest. It felt strange, but so amazing at the same time.

He cleared his throat and stood up. "I guess we have to go." His voice suddenly changed. "It's getting late and your boyfriend is going to be worried."

Boyfriend?

"Dean!" I shouted in horror. How could I have forgotten about him! I jumped up. "Where is the sl-" I blurred, everything unexpectedly spinning.

"Excuse me, what?"

Reeling sensations wrapped around me. Everything turned and turned and turned. "My...head..." I mumbled and was about to fell when Tristan shoved his hand behind my back on time and pulled me against him with the other one around my waist.

"Kalista?" he said anxiously.

"I feel dizzy," I said. I opened my eyes and found his face gloriously close to mine; close enough to share a kiss.

"Hold on. I'm going to carry you to the base," he said in a rush, his breath close to my lips.

"No." I shook my head. Stay with me, don't move, I wanted to say. "It's a long way," I said, looking into those deep, deep eyes.

He looked down at my mouth, as if he'd suddenly noticed how close it was to his. He pulled up his hand and pressed, very softly, his fingertip on my split open lip. My heart stopped. A small splotch of crimson topped his finger. He glanced at it and worry flooded his eyes once more. "I'm going to take you to the base."

"Okay," I sighed, still in a daze. "Let's go." I moved away from him and started walking unevenly. Getting one foot in front of the other suddenly seemed a difficult task.

"What are you doing?"

I turned to look at him. "Walking." I informed him.

"No, you're not going to walk, not in your condition. We're going on my snowboard." He turned and dug the black board from the snow.

"No."

"Look, I already saved your hands from being amputated, and I surely don't want to spoil the glory for letting you vanish somewhere in the trail." He smiled. "So you have two choices. One, I carry you while I'm snowboarding, or two, you slide along with me."

"Those aren't choices," I said, narrowing my eyes.

He ignored me, sitting down on the snow with the board across his feet and putting his boots into the bindings.

"What do you think you are? Superman?"

"No," he said, bending over the board to adjust the straps on his boots. "But I'm a very good snowboarder." His confidence left no doubt about his snowboarding skills, but, still, it was too risky. There wasn't enough space for both of us.

"It's not if you're good or not. The board is too narrow."

He pulled himself up and stared at me. "Trust me."

My head was spinning again, this time for an entirely different reason. I hated being this weak around him. "Okay...but cut the speed crap".

He smiled. "You don't need to worry about that. This trail is not deep, and it goes straight to the base. We'll be there in less than a minute." He said. "So, should I carry you?"

"No!" I snapped. Being lifted in the air so close to him made me shiver. "If I'm going to fall again, I rather stay close to the ground. I'll keep my feet on the board...even if there's not enough space." I looked at the cramped space under Tristan long legs.

"You need to give me more credit than that." He tilted his head to look at me. "And we have enough space. Come on, I'll prove it."

I didn't have a choice. I moved toward him, staggering clumsily in front of the board. "What do I do, exactly?"

"First take off your jacket."

I snapped up my head to look at him.

"We have a narrow space and your jacket is kind of bulbous."

Self-consciousness hit me. "Thank you for saying I look like a balloon," I said frustrated, jerking off the bulbous jacket.

"You don't look like a balloon," he half smiled, dropping his intense eyes on me-eyes that seemed to scan my body with a powerful X-ray vision. He shook his head. "Anyway, it will be easier for me to hold you without it."

Hold me.

"So what's next?" I asked, my face burning.

"Turn around and put your left foot on the board's front." I did so, turning my back to him and holding the jacket in my right hand. "Good, now put your other foot in the middle."

This was the difficult part, the one that would lead me to touch his body. I dragged my foot hesitantly, as if I was about to put it in boiling water, and Tristan pulled me gently against him, settling his hand on my stomach.

Oh, that hand. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I just need to twist the snowboard around," he said softly, his delicate breath blowing over my ear. "Give me your right arm for balance."

Tingling vibrations brushed my spine-and my hands. That's when I realized the electric dots had returned. I could feel the warmth of his hand penetrating my sweatshirt. I lifted my right arm, holding the jacket in the air.

"Perfect," he said as his left foot veered the board down the trail.

The cold wind blew softly on my face, awakening my pores. Swirls of pale pink and orange light glowed in the horizon, soothing my eyes and spirit. I felt like I was in another world, in a scene so magnificent that could only be a fantasy. The board glided easily through the buttery snow, making a serene sound that calmed my apprehension.

His right arm clutched me tight against his body as he steered the board, like a gentle belt preventing my fall. His snowboarding skills were outrageously good.

I wanted to stay like this, sealed to him. He made me feel so secure that it was...startling. I didn't even feel the speed. Nothing else mattered any more, just being close to him in this dreamlike moment. It was like having my own little piece of heaven on earth.

Then I realized how bad that thought was.