Demanding Ransom (25 page)

Ran
drops his weight and his body presses onto mine, his legs pinning me, and the
heart that at one time inhabited my chest is now positioned in my tight throat.
Instinctually, I run my hands up and down his arms, hooking mine through his so
I can wrap them up onto his shoulders. He’s strong, and every inch of him feels
that way.

“Maggie,”
he says again, and I realize every time he says my name, it’s like he’s breathing
it. “I told you I wanted to kiss you more than anything.” I grip his shoulders
and his chest gives. “But if I do, it’s not going to stop there.”

I
swallow hard, constricting the knot that’s wound in my neck. “I don’t think I
want it to.” I don’t know how it comes out so naturally, but it does and it
scares me. But at the same time, it feels so true, so I shouldn’t be scared. I
shouldn’t be scared by something that flies out of me like instinct because it
must be what’s actually inside me, for it to spill out without thinking it
first.

That
agonized expression pulls at Ran’s features again and he shakes his head
softly. “No, Maggie. We can’t.”

“I
thought you said you wanted new memories to replace the old, Ran,” I say,
trying to shake the notion that I’m being denied, but I can’t help but feel the
sting of it. Why am I not good enough for him? Why doesn’t he want me the way I
want him? Or at least the way I know he wanted all those other girls in the
past?

“That’s
exactly what I
am
doing.” Ran presses
a kiss at the shell of my ear and he slides my hair around the curve of it.
“Just being here with you like this has already replaced every single memory
I’ve had with any other girl. It’s only you now.”

If he
hadn’t wanted me to kiss him, he shouldn’t have said that last statement,
because it takes everything in me—literally everything—to keep from
ambushing Ran at this moment. I bind my arms around him tighter, push myself up
to him, and beg for the kiss I know isn’t going to happen, because he’s right,
it wouldn’t end with just a kiss. And knowing that he wants things to be
different between us, it wouldn’t be fair to tempt him that way—to push
him to the limit and then expect him to stop there.

“I lied
to you earlier.” It’s not at all what I anticipate him saying and my head spins
in confusion when he says it.

“Oh?”

“When I
said I was falling for you.” He lifts up just enough so we’re face to face, so
he’s looking right into my eyes, and then he unexpectedly drops down and
presses his mouth onto my mouth, his warm lips spreading across mine for the
briefest moment before he draws back and says, “I lied because I’m not
falling
for you, Maggie. I already
fell.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

“I can’t
do this. I’m absolutely terrified.” The wind slices into me and I can’t control
the shivering that has racked my entire body.

“Yes,
you can.” Ran bends his face closer to mine and his eyes stare out at me
through orange-tinted goggles. “And I wish you would stop saying how terrifying
I am. It’s going to give me a complex.”

“I’m
serious, Ran. I can’t do this.” My lunch swims in my stomach and I’m pretty
sure it’s about to make an encore performance in front of everyone in the line
behind me. I burp and Ran glances my direction.

“Are you
going to throw up?” He laughs at me, which makes everything so much worse. So
much worse because he’s not even acknowledging that I have the right to be
absolutely terrified by this.

“I think
so, maybe.” My throat burns.

“Well,”
he winks, “try not to get any on those pants since we rented them. They’re more
expensive than they look. That’s a pretty decent brand.”

“Really?
You mean this ridiculous outfit that makes me look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy
is actually something people would pay money for?” I waddle forward in our
line, feeling like I’m wearing moonboots and am covered in twenty layers of
bubble wrap.

“I think
you look adorable,” Ran smirks, pressing his finger into my stomach. I don’t
giggle like that stupid Dough Boy does and instead slug him in the gut, but my
hands are hidden under large gloves and there is absolutely no way he could
have even felt that. “Come on pokey, we gotta move forward.”

The line
for the chair lift is moving quickly, and with each chair that scoops up
another pair of people to carry them up the hill, I feel that lunch getting
closer and closer to debut time.

“So what
are you afraid of exactly?” Ran pushes at my back and I shuffle forward. He’s
got both of our snowboards in his other arm and is able to move effortlessly in
the snow while I feel like I’m some baby penguin that is just learning how to
walk.

“Let’s
see. Falling to my death from the lift is the first one.” I hold up a chubby
gloved finger. “Sliding to my death is another.” I lift up finger number two.
“And tumbling to my death is the third.” I’ve got three fingers held up in
front of Ran’s face. “Oh, wait. Don’t forget freezing to death. Number four.”

“The
only thing I’m worried about is laughing to death during all of those
scenarios.”

“That’s
not nice, Ran. I told you I hate the cold. I hate the snow. It is both cold and
snowy here. Not to mention the heights. I hate heights.”

“You’re
not going to fall off, Maggie.” There are only four more couples up ahead of us
and I contemplate actually giving in to the vomit that’s been hanging at the
back of my throat because I think it might give me an out, but I’d rather not
make a complete fool of myself, if that’s at all possible. “Here, you need to
put this on.” Ran drops my board onto the packed snow.

“What?”
I look down at it and then up at him.

“Yeah,
you have to put it on before we get on the lift. We actually should have had
them on already.” Ran clicks his right foot into the bindings on his board.

“No way!
I will have a hard enough time balancing up there without that thing trying to
pull me down with it.”

Ran
bends down and grabs my right foot, lifting it from its firm, planted position
in the snow and he slips the board right under it. “You don’t have a choice.
Now be a good girl and follow the rules.” He throws me an obnoxiously sexy grin,
which infuriates me because he’s being so condescending. I really want to kick
him in that perfect mouth of his with my other boot, but there’s no way I can
do it. Especially after the incredibly brief, but overwhelmingly intense,
contact I had with those lips last night.

“Almost
our turn,” Ran says, standing up beside me. He takes my elbow. “Now just skate
forward.”

“Skate?
I thought we were snowboarding.”

“We are.
It’s just a way to describe how to move forward. Kinda like you’re
skateboarding. Just push off the snow with your left foot and use that momentum
to glide the board forward.”

I shake
my head. “I can’t do this, Ran.”

“You
don’t have much of a choice now, Maggie. We’re next.”

The lift
just scooped up the couple in front of us, and there’s already a visible lag as
I hang back, terrified of the two-person chair that looms our direction.

“Come
on.” Ran uses his weight to pull both of us forward. “It’s our turn.”

I follow
his lead not because I want to, but because there’s absolutely no other place
to go. Unless I want to run screaming into the snow covered hills, which
actually might not be a bad option. We skate forward to the “Load Here” sign.

“One…two…”
Ran looks over his shoulder as our designated chair swings toward us and I
close my eyes so hard I think they might freeze shut. “Three.” I suck in a
searing breath and the chair buckles my knees and I tumble back onto its wobbly
surface.

“You
okay?” I think Ran lowers the safety bar across our lap but I haven’t opened my
eyes to confirm because I’m pretty certain that would mean I’d also have to
look down. And that would likely be the beginning of me falling to my sad,
snowy death. So I keep them shut and pretend I’m sitting on my couch at home.
My moving, swinging, artic-air chilled couch. This is not working.

“You
okay?” he says again, and I feel his arm stretch out over the back of the
chair. He curls his hand onto my shoulder.

“I hate
you.”

He gives
my shoulder a squeeze. “No, pretty sure you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.
And I hate this even more than that stupid motorcycle of yours.”

“Does
that mean I can get you to ride it again when we’re all done here?” Ran’s voice
perks up.

“Not a
chance. And after today, I’ll be dead, so I won’t be riding anything of yours
ever again.”

“Oh
Maggie, you really shouldn’t talk dirty like that. Save it for the texts.” Ran
laughs so hard the lift bounces up and down, and I grip onto his leg for
something to ground me. It’s freezing up here, so much colder than at the base
of the mountain, and we’ve been climbing for so long that I’m beginning to
think he’s tricked me into going down the black diamonds as opposed to the
bunny slopes.

“Shut
it, Ran! That’s not what I meant!”

“Sure it
wasn’t.” I can hear him smile and then feel his body straighten back up. “I
need you to forgive me, Maggie.”

“What?”
I turn to him, even though I’m still keeping up my not-opening-my-eyes act.

“Just
say you forgive me.”

“For
what?” I angle toward him even more.

“Just
say it.” His voice is firm, but I still detect a hint of teasing in it.

“I
forgive you, Ran.” I say it not because I actually do—I’m not even sure
what I’m forgiving him for—but because he’s peer pressured me into it.
Just like he did when he got me onto this stupid chairlift. Why is he always so
convincing?

“Good,
because in a moment, I’m going to need your forgiveness again and I think I
have a better chance of getting it if I break them up into smaller parts.”

“What
are you talking about?” I hear voices up above us and as the lift glides
steadily upward, they’re becoming louder.

Ran
pulls his arm back from my shoulder. “You know how you were afraid to get
on
the chairlift?”

“Yeah.”
My breathing picks up without me having any control over it.

“Well,
now we have to get
off
of it.” The
lift lurches forward and the fifteen-pound weight strapped to my foot swings
back and forth like a pendulum. “And some people might say that it’s a little
scarier than getting on it.”

Obviously
I knew we’d have to get off of the lift, but that was back when I thought all
I’d have to do was literally walk off of it, balanced in my stupid moonboots.
But now I apparently have to “skate” off of it, one foot strapped in and one
foot out. Seriously, how do I let him talk me into doing stuff like this? Oh
yeah. His impossibly gorgeous face and husky voice might have a little
something to do with it.

“I hate
you.”

“I
know.” I feel the jolt of the couple in front of us abandoning their seat and
know we’re next. I’ve managed to keep my eyes shut the entire duration of the ride,
and know that I don’t have the luxury of doing that much longer. This is
seriously going to require all of my senses on high alert.

“Just
point your board straight and keep the tip up,” Ran instructs. “When it meets
the snow, just roll like you’re getting off of a couch.” I’m feeling really
lightheaded and I’m sure the altitude isn’t helping. “Put your left foot on the
stomp pad, and when we get off, we’re going to make a J-turn to get out of
everyone’s way.”

“Ran,” I
plead, gripping onto the back of his jacket. “I have no idea what any of that
means.”

“Just
follow my lead. Keep your back foot on your stomp pad and don’t drag it in the
snow; you’ll end up doing the spits. And as much as I’d like to see that, this
is not the time, nor the place.” There’s that audible smirk in his grin again
and I don’t even have time to be flustered by it because I feel the impact of
the snow push up my board and my eyes instantly fly open.

Clinging
to Ran’s back, I try to find some strength in my shaky legs to push up, but
they collapse under me and I feel myself beginning to fall backward. Ran rights
us by leaning forward in an over-exaggerated motion, and I wrap my arms around
his waist like I’m holding on for dear life, because I sort of am. Even though
he’d warned against it, my left foot slips from the stomp pad and drags behind
me and I lose any ounce of control I might have possessed. My board swivels
like a car fishtailing on black ice and hooks under Ran’s. We’re not even five
feet away from the chair we were sitting on when I crash to the ground,
dragging Ran down with me, the next chair careening toward us as we lay in a
heap on the packed snow.

And then
the most mortifying thing happens. They shut down the lift.

“Are you
okay?” Ran twists around. He’s practically sitting on me, his weight pinning my
mangled legs, pressing me further into the snow.

Physically,
yes, I’m okay. But as I look back at the row of chairs strung down the
mountainside, the people seated in them rocking back and forth like they’re on
some ride at Disneyland, I realize that this probably ranks as one of the most
humiliating moments of my life. And everyone is right there to witness it from
their comfy little dangling chairs in the sky.