Risking It All

by Jennifer Schmidt

  “You’re right, I did say that. But did I say anything about spending it in Alec’s bed?” He remained silent, and Kennedy huffed. “If you hadn’t been so eager to piss on me and mark your territory, you would have seen that there was nothing sexual between Alec and me. And the only reason he said the things he did was to provoke you,” she said, poking her finger at his chest for good measure.

  “Why would he want to provoke me?” Memphis’s frown deepened. “He doesn’t even know me.”

  “Maybe because he knows a jealous ass when he sees one,” she teased him.

  A small smile appeared on his face. “So you wouldn’t have fucked him?”

  “No. I wouldn’t have fucked him,” Kennedy assured him with a shake of her head. “I’m a little hurt you think I’m that person.”

  His smile faded as he brushed the hair off her forehead.

  “I don’t think you’re that person, Kennedy.”

  “Obviously you do or else you wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion.”

  “Obviously I just wasn’t thinking clearly. You were right when you said I overreacted.”

  “Yes, you did.” Kennedy lowered her eyes to his chest and traced the neck of his T-shirt with her fingers.

  “I don’t want our week to be like this. Can we just forget it and enjoy the rest of the time here?” Kennedy nodded. “Good. Get your ass out of bed, then and come watch the sun rise with me.”

  “Do I get to drive the snow machine?” She grinned up at him.

  “Snowmobile,” he corrected. “Not a chance.” He matched her grin with one of his own and jumped out of bed. “Dress warm.”

  Was there any other option?

  Twenty minutes later she followed Memphis to the building by the stables. A snowmobile was already out and waiting for them, left idling to warm the motor. Kennedy noticed a backpack resting by the machine and watched as Memphis scooped it up and handed it to her.

  “What’s this?” She cautiously took the bag.

  “It’s for later. Put it on so you don’t have to hold it.”

  Kennedy slipped her arms through the straps and settled it on her back, feeling very much like a schoolgirl again. After she had the bag in place, Memphis handed her a black helmet and hopped on the machine, indicating she should do the same.

  Carefully, Kennedy squeezed her head into the helmet—it was nothing like Ol’ Red, and she feared once she got it on she would never get it off. She slid the little visor down so it covered her face and straddled the seat behind Memphis.

  He patted her leg, silently telling her to hold on. She wrapped her arms around him and gave his stomach a squeeze, signaling she was ready. She wondered if he had ever driven the powerful machine before, but figured it couldn’t be much different from a motorcycle.

  Kennedy held tight as they shot forward, her stomach flipping with excitement as they rode toward the trail and through the trees. Snow flew around them, dusting their suits, as Memphis navigated them toward the lake. She watched the trees pass in almost a blur, each one blending in with the other.

  They rode against the cold wind, and Kennedy shivered as it slipped beneath the collar of her jacket where her scarf had shifted and bit at her flesh. She pressed herself closer to Memphis—to block out the wind, she would later tell herself.

  Memphis slowed, and Kennedy peeked over his shoulder. The trees started clearing—they were not as thick as they had been back on the trail. The snowmobile’s lights shone ahead of them, and she could see they were approaching the lake.

  Memphis stopped next to the shore and shut down the machine. He quickly hopped off and unzipped his jacket, revealing his camera tucked safely inside. He removed his helmet and set it on the seat, smiling down at Kennedy. He took the lens cap off the camera and fiddled with the settings before raising the expensive piece of equipment and focusing on the scenery.

  Kennedy tugged the helmet off and slowly lowered it to her lap. She was awed at the beauty laid out in front of her. The sun was starting to wake up, shooting rays of red and gold light over the mountaintops on the other side of the lake. Kennedy didn’t have to look at the pictures Memphis was taking to know they would be beautiful. The mountains would be reflected in the water with their snowy peaks sparkling in the light.

  She sat there and watched the sun’s edge peek over the great mass of rock in the distance, uncovering the forest from the blanket of darkness.

  It was breathtaking, and unshed tears suddenly burned her eyes as she watched the beauty of a simple sunrise unfold in front of her. And in the middle of it all was the man who had made it possible for her to see.

  Kennedy blinked back the tears and closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the sky. A slight wind blew snowflakes from the trees onto her face, causing them to melt as soon as they hit her skin. She smiled and gave into the childish impulsive to stick out her tongue and catch the cold, white flakes.

  The sound of the camera flashing snapped her eyes open. Memphis stood a few feet away, pointing the camera at her and grinning.

  “Tell me you didn’t take just take my picture.” She covered her face, mortified at being caught.

  “I didn’t take your picture,” he said, his grin growing bigger.

  “Tell me that and mean it.”

  He laughed and closed the distance between them. Gently he swiped a wet spot off her nose where a flake had melted, and shook his head.

  “Can’t do that,” he said, staring down at her as he brushed his fingers over her cheek.

  Kennedy was lost in his blue eyes, unable to look away or say something clever as usual. He cupped her chin, skimming his thumb over her bottom lip. Kennedy inhaled sharply, her lips parting as she breathed in the cold Alaskan air. Memphis’s eyes dropped to her mouth at the sound, his thumb pausing in the soft caress.

  Kennedy was afraid to swallow, much less move, in case it snapped him out of staring at her mouth like he wanted to take it and claim it as his. His stare made her entire body heat, and she feared she’d soon have to start stripping out of her parka and ski pants to cool down.

  Or better yet, he could help her strip out of them.

  She eyed his mouth as intensely as he looked at hers. Kennedy tried to remember their kiss but couldn’t think past anything at that moment.

  She suddenly knew she was being watched, and when she lifted her eyes from his mouth, she almost gasped. If eyes ever really did smolder, that’s what Memphis’s were doing. They looked darker, smaller, glaring at her with so much heat she wouldn’t have to worry about stripping out of her clothes because they were about to melt right off her.

  Kennedy unconsciously licked her lips, and he dropped his gaze for a split second back to her mouth. His nostrils flared as the tip of her tongue disappeared back into her mouth, and he snapped his eyes back to hers. She figured she was delusional when she swore she saw flames dance in his blue irises.

  That didn’t stop her from letting out a faint whimper, though.

  Memphis brought both hands up to cup her face and angled her head just a bit to the right. He slowly moved in closer, and Kennedy stopped breathing as she realized what he was about to do. Memphis was going to kiss her. He was going to cross that line all on his own without her having to ask him. His lips were going to mold themselves to hers, and she wouldn’t be able to lie about it later and say she asked him to do it because of Brooks. This kiss was going to be all about them.

  And it scared her.

  “I’m cold, Memphis,” she whispered before he could move another inch closer. She closed her eyes, cursing herself and regretting it as soon as the words were said.

  She felt Memphis pull away, and a second later he dropped his hands from her face. She lowered her head as tears of frustration and anger threatened to roll down her cheeks.

  Memphis cleared his throat and gently tugged the strap of the backpack that she still wore.

  “Guess it’s a good thing I brought hot chocolate, huh?”

  Kennedy darte
d her eyes to her shoulder where his hand held the strap, and up to his face, looking away again as she slid the backpack off. He smiled at her, but she could tell it was forced. She knew without having to ask that Memphis felt just as uncomfortable with what happened as she did.

  “You do think of everything,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  His forced smile stayed in place as he dug out the thermos of hot chocolate and two plastic cups. Kennedy held the cups in her shaky hands as he poured.

  She waited until he had capped the thermos again before handing him his cup. Their fingers brushed, and she almost dropped it before he had a chance to grip the plastic. She pulled her hand back and wrapped both around her cup, keeping her eyes down as she blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip.

  Uncomfortable silence fell around them as they distracted themselves with drinking and looking at the scenery. Finally, Kennedy couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Did you get all the pictures you wanted?” It might not have been the best conversation starter but at least she was trying, right?

  Memphis tossed the rest of his hot chocolate on the ground, and Kennedy watched as a splattered design of brown covered the pristine white snow. She frowned as he threw the cup into the backpack.

  “While you finish up I’m just going to take a few more,” he said and stalked off.

  Kennedy watched him go, her eyes following him as he stood by the lake and aimed the camera at the mountains in the distance. He then turned his attention to the trees and caught something she couldn’t see from her perch on the snowmobile.

  She smiled, thinking how much she loved to watch him work. He was so at peace out there. So involved in his work and in his element, lost in what he was doing. No man had ever looked as attractive to her as Memphis did in that moment. So then why, when she wanted him so much, did she freak when he went to make his move? She wanted it. She wanted nothing more than to have Memphis claim her body and mind in whatever way he craved. But when it came down to it, she froze.

  Was it her own insecurities stopping her, or was it something more? Or someone more? The way she could easily push Brooks from her thoughts when she was around Memphis was unsettling when she actually stopped to think about it. He hadn’t even crossed her mind most of the trip, but even if she wasn’t thinking about him, he would have still been reason enough to not be with someone else.

  But it wasn’t just someone else. It was Memphis. If she had kissed a complete stranger, the guilt would have eaten her alive over betraying Brooks. But she felt none of that over her kiss with Memphis.

  So if it wasn’t guilt over Brooks making her freeze when Memphis went to make a move, what was it?

  Kennedy slipped off the machine. She didn’t want to disturb him, but she couldn’t stay away from him in that moment, either. The sound of the snow crunching beneath her boots alerted him to her approach, and he lowered his camera but didn’t turn to face her.

  Slowly, as if not to spook him or herself, Kennedy wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his cold back.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He didn’t respond, but he turned around in her arms and looked down at her. She felt shy in his presence all of a sudden.

  Memphis cupped her face with his hands again and wiped away the wet trail of the single tear that had escaped unnoticed down her cheek. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him properly.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he said.

  Kennedy licked her lips and instantly regretted it when the cold nipped at the wetness and made them freeze.

  “You have no idea of the gift you’ve given me by bringing me here, Memphis.”

  He smirked and shook his head.

  “If only you knew,” he said.

  “Knew what?”

  “Knew why.”

  Kennedy frowned and darted her eyes over his lips before looking back into his eyes.

  “Why you brought me here?”

  “I had my own selfish reasons, Kennedy.” He grimaced at his confession. “It wasn’t just because I knew you’d always wanted to come.”

  “What reasons?” She was almost afraid to hear his answer.

  “Doesn’t matter. Not now.” He gave her a sad smile and dropped his hands from her face.

  “Memphis.” Kennedy whirled around and grabbed at his arm when he made an attempt to walk away. “Don’t do that. Please,” she begged. “Don’t tell me something doesn’t matter when I can tell it obviously does.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, pulling his arm free. “Let’s warm you up.”

  “I’m not cold.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  “You said you were a few minutes ago.”

  Kennedy uncrossed her arms and shook her head, giving him the same sad look he had moments ago given her.

  “I’m sorry about that, Memphis,” she said. “That was a stupid thing to say. I don’t know why I did.”

  “Yes, you do.” She narrowed her eyes at him in question, and he scoffed at her. “Let’s not play games and pretend like you didn’t know what I was about to do. It’s fine, Kennedy. I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “Just . . .” Memphis shook his head and glanced from the snowmobile back to her. “Just forget it, Kennedy. We’re cool. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I won’t forget it! Just like I won’t forget you had reasons for bringing me here, Memphis. Just tell me!”

  Memphis huffed and stalked back to the machine, throwing his leg over the seat and straddling it. Kennedy watched as he shoved the helmet back on his head and stared at her, telling her with hard eyes to either get on or be left behind.

  Not that she thought Memphis would ever leave her behind, but she knew there was no point standing in the middle of nowhere trying to continue a conversation that he had just shut down.

  Silently, Kennedy took the bag from him and shouldered it again. She climbed behind him and carefully fit the helmet over her head. She didn’t press against him this time; she didn’t wrap her arms around him as tightly. She made sure to leave space between his back and her front and only rested her hands on his sides, grasping his jacket rather than his body.

  “You need to hang on, Kennedy,” he told her, the words muffled by his helmet.

  “I am hanging on,” she said, not moving an inch closer.

  “Kennedy—”

  “I’m hungry, Memphis. I’d like to get back for breakfast.”

  She figured he would start the machine and take off immediately. Instead, he shifted on the seat as if he was going to turn around and look at her. She waited, but all he did was stare out in front of him. She was about to ask him what he was thinking when he spoke.

  “It doesn’t matter why I really brought you here, Kennedy, because you made it very clear after our kiss that any intimate reaction you have to me is a result of Brooks. If it wasn’t, you would have kissed me now.”

  Before Kennedy could respond, the machine purred to life. He gunned the throttle too hard and it jerked her backward. She grabbed onto him tighter as he flew back down the snow-packed trail. She wanted to yell at him to stop, to listen to her and let her explain, but she knew it would be useless. There was no way he’d hear her over the wailing of the engine.

  When they arrived back at the resort, Memphis parked by the stables and hurried away from her, disappearing inside the building. She waited nervously, watching the door until finally it opened and Memphis emerged, a man following behind him.

  She expected him to come back for her, but instead he stormed off toward their cabin. Kennedy scrambled off the snowmobile as quickly as she could, yanked off the helmet, and thrust it and the backpack at the guy with an apologetic smile.

  She jogged to catch up to Memphis, which in a snowsuit and heavy snow was easier said than done.

  “Memphis!”

  He continued walking, ignoring her as he passed people who stopped and gave them curious looks.
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  “Memphis, goddamn it, stop!” She stopped a few feet behind him outside their cabin, out of breath from both anger and exhaustion in trying to keep up with him. “It wasn’t about Brooks!”

  She watched as his back stiffened and his movement to open the door stopped. He stood there, silent and still. Slowly she moved toward him, her legs feeling as if they were going to give out any at second from what she was about to say.

  “I lied to you.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “That kiss . . . When I asked you to kiss me, I didn’t think it would be anything more than that, just a simple kiss. But it was more than that, and I was confused and . . . scared.” She inhaled a shaky breath and repeated, “It wasn’t about Brooks.”

  Memphis looked over his shoulder at her. Kennedy fidgeted under his unwavering stare, clasping and unclasping her gloved hands.

  “And just now? When I went to kiss you now, why did you pull back?”

  “I’m . . . ” Kennedy swallowed, her eyes wide as she shook her head and pressed her lips together, trying to think of what to say rather than just blurt it all out.

  “That’s what I thought,” Memphis said as he opened the door and went inside.

  Anger rose up in her at that moment. How dare he walk away and not give her a minute to think. Didn’t he know how hard this was on her? Didn’t he realize this could ruin their friendship and that scared the hell out of her? Didn’t he fucking feel how confusing all this was, too? It wasn’t as black and white as he wanted it to be.

  Kennedy marched into the cabin. Fueled by her anger at him, she slammed the door and tried to look as serious as she could wearing a white and pink snowsuit and tuque. Kennedy snatched the hat off her head, trying to keep her dignity, at least.

  “Listen, you ass, you don’t get to just shoot questions at me and then walk away when I can’t answer them fast enough.”

  Memphis looked up at her, surprised by her outburst. He furrowed his brow as he removed his ski pants and slung them over the back of the couch with his jacket. Damn, the man shed clothes quickly. Kennedy put that thought out of her head and glared at him.