Shooting for the Stars

by Sarina Bowen

  “Oh.”

  “But you’re sleeping. So I’ll go hang out at the bar, give them an hour…”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Just sleep here.”

  He squinted as his eyes tried to become accustomed to the dark. “Are you sure?” He didn’t say it, but she knew what he was thinking. There was only one bed.

  “It’s fine.” She could do this. She could spend a few hours in a room with him, without deceiving herself.

  The bed was king-sized, anyway. There was plenty of room for Stella and Bear, plus the giant helping of awkwardness which lay between them. Stella walked around the bed to the far edge and climbed in, curling up on her side.

  There was a pause while Bear tried to figure out what to do. But then she heard him kick off his shoes and sit down. The silence stretched out between them, until Bear gave a big yawn.

  “Duku didn’t leave a bandanna on the door, did he?” Stella asked. “I didn’t see one.”

  Bear chuckled in the dark. “Nope. I was half dressed by the time I figured out that he wasn’t alone in that shower. But then it got loud enough that I had to sing Jingle Bells while I finished getting dressed. I’ll text him in an hour. Maybe the coast will be clear.”

  “Just sleep,” Stella whispered. “We had a long day.”

  He didn’t answer her. But some time later, she heard him get up and drop his jeans on the floor. Then the covers were pulled back, and he climbed in.

  Stella listened to him settling in. Eventually, his breathing lengthened into sleep. She was never going to have this — the peaceful solace of a mate sleeping beside her in the dark. Her lifestyle was exciting, but it lacked this simple comfort.

  Stella rolled over, moving just a little closer to his sleeping form. He’d always been irresistible to her, like a magnetic force. She would do anything to stop feeling the pull. Stella yearned to scoot backwards across the mattress and curl into his warmth. But she couldn’t do that.

  A fresh set of tears stung her eyes, and so she pressed her fingertips into the corners. It was late, and she was tired. This sadness would pass. It would have to.

  Twenty-One

  BEAR DID NOT WAKE up until snowy light filtered in through the drapes of Stella’s hotel room. He hadn’t set an alarm, so there was a possibility he was running late to the meeting he’d planned.

  Even so, he did not get up right away. Because someone warm and soft was curled against his back. Hey lay there for a few minutes, appreciating the peace of Stella’s sleeping form. Her breathing was slow and deep, and it seemed a crime to disturb her.

  He regretted his laziness a minute later, though, when he heard a tap on the door. “Stella! You up?” Duku’s voice called.

  Shit.

  Bear slid out of bed and grabbed his jeans off the floor. He hopped into them as if the building were on fire.

  “Stella?” Duku called. “Have you seen Bear?”

  “Hrmmmp,” she said at first, rolling onto her back. Then her eyes snapped open and flew to Bear’s. “Oh shit,” she mouthed, a sparkle of humor lighting her face.

  Bear shoved his feet into his unlaced boots went to the door, which he jerked open. “I’m right here,” he said, his voice rough. “No thanks to your exploits.”

  Duku laughed. “Your meeting is starting in ten, I thought?”

  “Yeah,” Bear ran a hand through messy hair. “I can take a quick shower. Stella, you’ll meet me in the conference room, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Bear pulled the door closed, then turned toward his own hotel room.

  He didn’t make it but two steps, though, before Hank came wheeling around the corner. “You slept with my sister?”

  Still half asleep, Bear stopped in his tracks. “No! Well. Yes to the sleeping…”

  Hank laughed up at him. “Just having a little fun with you. Duku told me that he scared you away last night. Seriously, you’re really rocking the I-slept-in-my-clothes look today.”

  Bear just shook his head, stumbling toward his own hotel room, while Hank laughed after him.

  Two minutes of hot water improved him. Armed with maps and hand-outs, he hurried to the lobby, where Duku was filling a large thermos at the free coffee cart. “Dude. If you drain that thing, you’ll only end up splitting it with me.”

  “Tough crowd here for a Wednesday morning,” Duku replied, stepping out of his way. “Relax. They brought in this full urn while I was standing here.”

  “You’re awfully cheerful this morning.” Bear grabbed a paper cup and waited for Duku to step aside.

  “I got laid last night. You should try it some time.”

  “You’re not my type,” Bear said, earning a snort from Duku.

  Bear filled a cup and high-tailed it into the little conference room off the lobby he’d reserved for their strategy session. Hank was waiting with a camera on a tripod, so that they could record the meeting for potential use as “behind the scenes” footage.

  Stella ran in two minutes later, carrying a cup identical to Bear’s. “Sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay.” Bear met her gaze and was startled by what he found there. Her eyes were red and puffy. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said stiffly.

  He regarded her for a moment, wondering whether to press the issue. When she lifted her chin as if to stave off more inquiry, he passed her an itinerary. Tomorrow they were flying into Anchorage. From there, they’d drive three hours into the Chugach mountains.

  “Morning, Stell-Bell,” her brother said, rolling up beside her. “What’s wrong with your face?”

  Stella punched him in the shoulder. “I’m too polite to ask the same of you. Though I’ve always wondered.” She looked around. “Where’s Callie?”

  “She dropped me off, and now she’s taking a private ski lesson. I’ll see her tonight.”

  “She didn’t want to listen to us argue for an hour?” Duku asked, gulping from the world’s largest coffee. “I call shotgun in Alaska.”

  “What?” Hank spat. “You can’t call shotgun until the vehicle is in sight. That’s the first rule of shotgun.”

  “Look, kids.” Bear unrolled a map on the surface of the table. “As entertaining as you imagine you are, we have work to do.”

  “Yes, master,” Duku grunted.

  At least someone was down with the program. Stella leaned over the maps, studying the Chugach mountain range. “Devil’s Spine,” she said, laying her finger on the marker for one of the higher ridges in the range. “Nobody has ever ridden it before. I want to make a first descent right here.”

  There was a silence at the table while everyone else leaned in to take a peek at Stella’s choice.

  Bear’s blood pressure went up three points when he saw the spot she’d chosen. “Stella, there’s a reason that ridge hasn’t had its cherry popped. Those crevasses on either side are doozies.”

  “I see that,” Stella argued. “But the slope itself isn’t too narrow. And if you put the camera down here somewhere,” — she pointed to a spot beyond the crevasse — “it will look a lot more dangerous than it is.”

  “Pretty sneaky, sis,” Hank offered.

  “I know, right?”

  Bear grunted. She was not going to ride that ridge. Not on his watch. “That slope is an unnecessary risk. Pick something else.”

  “I can handle it,” she argued.

  Her brother chuckled. “Time for rock, paper, scissors. Isn’t that how you two settle all your disagreements?”

  Bear felt his face heat. And he couldn’t even look at Stella. The last time they’d discussed rock, paper, scissors, they’d been naked and sweaty. Head down, he went back to the map. “There are plenty of good shots to be had anywhere along here,” Bear pointed out, gesturing across the mountain range. “We’ll make it a game-time decision.”

  Across the table, Stella folded her arms. “Fine. But I have a good feeling about this.”

  Bear was careful to make his shrug non-committal.
Because there was no way Stella was going to ride that deadly bit of snow-covered rock. “Has anyone looked at the weather report? Because it’s pretty shaky. This is why I wanted to go to British Columbia. Alaska is so dicey in the spring.”

  “Why are we going, then?” Duku asked.

  “Somebody at OverSight has a relationship with an Alaskan helicopter outfit. Supposedly we’re saving some money. But ten percent off on the choppers will be pretty meaningless if we can’t fly in the first place.”

  “It will work out,” Hank said. “Even if we only get one day’s worth, it will be great footage. We’ll work with it.”

  Bear risked a glance at Stella. She was still standing there in an ass-kicking stance, sizing him up. Their eyes locked for a second, and Bear saw determination in them. “I’m going to go and suit up,” she said, turning from the table.

  “The van leaves for our last shots at Sun Valley in forty-five minutes,” he said, looking away. “Be ready.”

  “I’m always ready,” Stella grumbled. Then she left the room.

  Twenty-Two

  ON THEIR FIRST DAY in Alaska, Bear captured some quality footage in a canyon.

  Unfortunately, two days of snow and sleet had followed. This morning it had actually been raining, which had depressed the hell out of everyone. If they wanted to ride in the rain, they could go back to Vermont.

  Trapped in the lodge, Bear watched Hank deal a hand of five-card draw. Not that Bear was able concentrate on the cards. He was going to go out of his mind very soon, unless the guide stepped into the lodge and gave him the pilots’ weather forecast.

  With one eye on the door, he anted up, placing a dollar bill in the center of the table. In his hand he found a pair of fours and not much else.

  Figures.

  Bear needed a break, and he needed it soon. And his poker hand was not the problem. They’d been stuck inside for forty-eight hours, basically. Except for trips to the lodge next door for all their meals, they’d been housebound by bad weather. And for each hour of poor visibility that passed, the odds that they’d go home with minimal footage increased.

  He stole another look at the door, as if he could force it open with his mind, like some kind of weather-beating Jedi.

  This afternoon was their last chance, and it was two o’clock already. It gave Bear a nauseous rush to think that he’d put his friends through five months of planning, riding, shooting and travel. One more afternoon of shooting was all he needed. Just one.

  Across the table, Stella’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll raise a dollar!”

  Bear folded, largely from lack of interest. Duku did too. But Hank raised her two dollars, and Stella threw in two more. After a flurry of betting, Duku, who had dealt, asked Stella how many cards she wanted.

  “Four!” she said cheerfully.

  Her brother groaned. “Seriously. You are the worst card player ever.”

  “Not true,” Stella argued, arranging her freshly renovated hand. “I just don’t mind risk. Sometimes it pays off.”

  “Whatever,” her brother argued. “I’ll raise you five bucks.”

  Stella slapped a five onto the table without blinking.

  “This will be interesting,” Hank said, opening his hand. He had a pair of aces.

  She revealed her cards, too. “Tens over nines.”

  “You crazy little brat...”

  The lodge door opened — finally — and Wickham, the outfit’s senior guide, beckoned. “It’s clear enough to fly. Can you be ready in ten?”

  “Yeah!” Stella cried, jumping up from the table, her winnings forgotten. “I’m ready now.”

  “Whoa. Not so fast,” Bear said, walking over to the guide. “Let’s hear about the conditions out there.”

  Wickham scratched his chin. “The north-facing aspects got loaded down with most of the wet stuff. So if we pick out a sheltered, south-facing slope, we should have the most luck.”

  “Wait,” Stella said. “I want to try Devil’s Spine.”

  The guide frowned. “That one aint exactly sheltered. Or south-facing, for that matter.”

  “But we can go up there and have a look at it, right?”

  “No way,” Bear said. In poor conditions, he could not have Stella picking a risky slope.

  “What do you mean, no way? How can you tell from inside this lodge what we’ll find on that peak?”

  Bear took a deep, calming breath before answering. Stella was working a defiant stance, hands on her hips. He was not going to let her do something stupid. “There’s too much grade on that slope.” He tried to sound calm and logical, but suspected that he was failing. “The rain we had will make the surface heavy. You know how this works.” Wickham still had not offered an opinion, Bear noticed. “What do you think?” he asked the older man. Come on, help me out here, buddy.

  Wickham frowned again. “You know what’s weird? You guys aren’t the only ones talking about Devil’s Spine today.”

  “What?” Stella breathed.

  The guide jerked a thumb toward the door. “The guys in the other lodge want to ride it, too.”

  “How could that be?” Stella yelped. “Since the helicopter was invented, nobody has done that peak. And today there are two teams who want the first descent?”

  Bear cleared his throat. “You were talking about it at dinner last night.”

  Stella’s eyes widened before they began to burn with fury. “Those assholes,” she gasped. “We have to go. Now. I’m suiting up. I’ll see you outside.”

  “Stella!” Bear called after her. But she did not listen. The chill in his chest thickened as he turned to Hank. “I need you to talk to your sister for me.”

  His friend’s eyebrows arched. “No can do.”

  “Are you kidding me? Do you not fucking care that she’s being an idiot?”

  Hank stared up at Bear, measuring him with sharp eyes. “I care a great deal, asshole. But I can’t tell Stella what to do. And for the record, she isn’t being an idiot. Not yet, anyway.”

  “You need to talk her down from this.”

  Hank shook his head. “That’s not how it works. She has to decide for herself.”

  “That is crazy! The risk out there could be off the charts.”

  His friend wheeled over to a hook on the wall and liberated his parka. “If it’s sketchy, Stella won’t ride it. She knows more about back-country conditions than either of us.”

  “But she wants this so bad.”

  Hank bent forward to get his jacket on, navigating the wheelchair’s backrest. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about the risk. But me telling her not to do it? That’s not my place.”

  “Hank, this is a bad idea.” He felt it in his gut. It wasn’t a twinge. It wasn’t a tickle. It was heavy. Like dread.

  “So let her go out there and poke the snow on that peak. If it’s unstable, she’ll feel it.”

  Bear didn’t want her anywhere near the place. How could Stella stand there on the peak of her dreams and not give it a try? It was like taking a Golden Retriever to a meadow that may or may not be full of land mines, and throwing a tennis ball.

  He would not be the person responsible for that.

  “If you feel so strongly about it,” Hank said, “why are you telling me and not her?”

  Right.

  Bear stomped across the big room to the narrow doorway to the littlest bunkroom, which Stella had commandeered. “You can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  Scare me half to death. “The pitch on that spine is off the charts. After the rain we got, there’s no more dangerous slope in Alaska.”

  Her eyes flashed with irritation. “Possibly. But we don’t know that until I get a look.”

  Just picturing her up on top of an avalanche hazard made bile rise in Bear’s throat. “Buddy, no. I can’t let you do this.”

  Her gaze challenged him. “Why?” she asked simply.

  Because I love you. The words were choking him. He needed to get a fucking
grip, and handle this professionally. But what did that even mean? What was the right thing to say to the girl you loved, when you’d fucked everything up and didn’t have time to fix it? He could hear the pilots outside right now, snapping the gear basket on the side of the copter closed.

  Bear put his hands on Stella’s shoulders. “We have to do this safely, okay?”

  Her expression was guarded. “Can you just answer one question for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “If it was Duku who wanted this descent, would you tell him he couldn’t even have a look at it?”

  Bear’s heart contracted. I’m not in love with Duku.

  Unfortunately, Stella misinterpreted his hesitation. She let out an irritation-filled sigh. “Yeah. I didn’t think so.” She shook off his hands.

  “Hey! You didn’t let me answer. Stella, nobody dies on my movie, okay?”

  Her eyes went flat. “Nobody dies on your movie,” she repeated. “What on earth would the critics say?”

  “Stella!” That’s not what he’d meant.

  “Bad PR could really crush those ticket sales,” she said, zipping her jacket.

  “Stell,” he tried again.

  But she pushed past him and stomped toward the door. “I’m going to take a look at that peak. And you’re going to let me.”

  “If you’re not careful, I swear to God I will…”

  “Will what?” she challenged.

  I will not get over it. He didn’t say that, though. “Where is your transponder?” Anyone getting out of the helicopter would wear an avalanche beacon. It was standard procedure. “Show it to me.” He chased her across the room.

  Stella spun to face him. “Right here,” she patted her chest. “And I cannot believe you just asked me that. Like I haven’t done this before.”

  “Stella…”

  “What?” she cried, exasperated with him. “You’re freaking out on me like I’m some stupid little twit who can’t be trusted to make the right decision. Just save it, okay?” She stomped past him, out of the bedroom, then all the way out of the lodge, slamming the door behind her.