Page 68 of Friends Don't Kiss

Thank god. She’s talking. She’s breathing. She doesn’t seem to be hurting.Yet.“But are you alright?” I ask again.

She tries to prop herself on her elbows, but the snow collapses under her and she ends up flat on her back again. “Colt! Why did you stop?”

Why did I stop?Why did I stop?Because for a freak second I thought you might be hurt. Because you’re going to need help getting back up. Because… because… “Thought you might need this,” I end up saying, placing her snowboard gently at her feet.

She lifts her head. “Ugh,” she says, then dramatically lets her head fall back into the snow. “I would have gotten it. You never, ever, stop in ungroomed snow. How are we gonna get back there? And they’re about to close!”

“We’re real close to Avalanche. Maybe two hundred feet. Come on, give me your hands. You’re gonna get cold.” I struggle to maintain my balance, and to stay relaxed as the freezing temperatures seep into my clothes. “You sure you’re not hurt?” We’ll find out when she gets on her board again.

She grabs onto me, her hands feeling tiny even through our two layers of gloves, and gets to a seated position. Dropping to my knees, my board digging into my butt, I scrub the packed snow from her boots as best I can and help her fasten her board. Cold makes our movements slower. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I say. “I’m gonna tilt back on my board, you’re gonna lift with me, and we’re gonna try and keep our balance so we can slide down. Worse comes to worst…” I pull on my neckie to unfog my goggles, the cold making me lose all feeling around my nose and mouth.

“Yeah?” she says, her eyes hopeful on me.

Hell if I know. We’ll walk down, snow up to our waist. We’ll hold onto our snowboards like surfboards and belly down the rest of the trail. “We’ll figure something out.”

Her eyes widen, then she starts laughing uncontrollably, her hands sliding off my grip as she clutches her helmeted head.

“What?” I’m torn between laughing with her for no reason and getting a move on to get out of the cold—not to mention the closing mountain.

“Your plan! ‘We’ll figure something out’,” she repeats, taking a low voice and bobbing her head in what I’m assuming is her imitation of me.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel safe?” She laughs again, then takes a breath. In the silence that follows, my world comes apart. Is she for real? Does she really think I’ll let her be in any kind of danger? Is she testing me? She’s as seasoned a rider as I am. She could get out of here on her own.Maybe.She clears her throat, a low hum, then sticks her hands out. “Sorry, let’s try this again.”

I pull her up, then bend my knees suddenly and take her in a firefighter hold. Her yelp only makes my dick twitch again. She’s so light on my shoulder that I barely feel her when I jump to get some momentum. “Colton, you’re gonna kill us both!” she half laughs, half yells as we gain speed. “Put me down! I’m peeing myself! You’re pressing on my bladder!”

“Only thing dying on this mountain tonight is your pride.”

twenty-five

Kiara

“Please,Colt,I’mbeggingyou.”

His hold on my butt tightens. “Careful, Kiara. I kinda like it when you beg me.”

I swallow hard at his words. “We’re on Avalanche. You can put me down, now.”

“Nah, I kind of like you there.” He gives my butt a squeeze, and I have to focus not to writhe under his touch. Man, I can’t wait for the après-ski part. And I’m not talking about the hot chocolate.

We pick up speed, and he slides right up to the lodge. He sets me gently on the packed snow right in front of the racks lining the outdoor patio.

Several bonfires are roaring with Adirondack chairs in tight clusters around them. “Go to the ladies’ room, I’ll meet you right here,” he says, setting his helmet and gloves on two chairs before I can say anything. I follow him inside, admiring his broad shoulders, brushing lightly against him as he holds the door for me.

In the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror, wondering what he sees in me that he went through all that trouble for a date. My nose is as red as Rudolph’s, my hair looks like a mop, and my body, bundled as it is, looks like a stuffed sleeping bag. Yet he set up a fake account, chatted with me online, and found a guy whose voice I don’t know to pose as him.

All this for a date with me.

Go figure.

When I come back, he has us set up with two hot chocolates and churros on the flat boulder separating our chairs from the fire. He pulls my chair out to help me sit and I can’t help but think how verydatethis feels.

I have to admit, this is nice.

“Mmm, it’s good,” he says, dipping the churro in the hot chocolate. “Here, try it,” he adds, presenting me with a dripping churro.

I lean forward, barely catching the overly sugared, overly delicious treat. I smile at Colton. “I had a great time, Colt. Thank you.”

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