Page 9 of The Proximity Effect

“I did it!” I threw my arms up in victory, promptly lost my balance, and sat down hard in the snow. But I didn’t care—I had snowboarded! “Take that, Declan! Who’s impractical now?”

“Who’s Declan?” Liam came to a graceful stop beside me.

“My ex.” I beamed up at him and accepted his help standing up again, this time not losing my glove. “So, can we do it again? This time I promise to philosophize less and snowboard more.”

“I don’t know... the philosophy was kind of entertaining.” He grinned, and man, was it a nice smile. “I mean, how many students do I get who can draw parallels between snowboarding and dodging dog poop? It brings a whole new intellectual dimension to my lessons.”

“Was that... a joke?” I gasped in mock horror. “Alert the media! The mountain man has a sense of humor!”

“Don’t spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain.” He crossed his arms in mock seriousness.

Maybe there was hope for him yet—though I’d keep that observation to myself. No need to spook him.

Chapter 4

Hell’s Kitchen

Liam

Istared at the quarterly profit and loss statement on my laptop, but the numbers kept swimming together. Usually, I loved numbers and finding ways to make money, but something aboutthesenumbers always made me want to scream into the void.

It didn’t help that my mind kept drifting back to the lesson I’d taught earlier, and specifically to a certain student with an uncanny ability to make me laugh. She’d been cute in her little snowboarding outfit with her brown hair flowing out from under her helmet.

I rubbed my temples, needing to focus. The late afternoon sun streaming through my office window was mocking me, perfect powder conditions going to waste while I was stuck inside doing... whatever the hell this was supposed to be. I should have been shredding fresh lines down the black diamond and chasing that perfect rush.

Instead? I was chasing depreciation values and occupancy rates.

The framed photo on my desk caught my eye—four grinning idiots, arms slung around each other’s shoulders like we’d take on the world together. Gavin was in the middle, that infectious smile lighting up his whole face. God, when was the last time I’d seen him?

After our falling out senior year of college, here we were, stuck with his resort because of some twisted posthumous attempt to... what? Force us to be friends again? Fix what broke between us?

“Special delivery!” Evan’s voice cut through my brooding as he burst into my office, waving a stack of papers. “Customer feedback forms, hot off the presses!”

“Joy.” I didn’t bother hiding my lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t we have an online system for that?”

“Some people are old school.” He dropped into the chair across from my desk, spreading the forms out like he was dealing cards. “Oh, this one’s about you. ‘Instructor was cold and unprofessional. Seemed annoyed to be teaching beginners.’” He clicked his tongue. “Tsk tsk, Liam.”

“If you’re here to—” I started, but he cut me off, waving another form.

“Wait, wait! Here’s another one: ‘Best lesson ever! Liam managed to turn what could have been a terrifying experience into something empowering. Like life itself, snowboarding teaches us to look forward, not down… except when avoiding presents from furry friends, which is also an important life skill.’” Evan’s grin widened. “Signed, Tessa Callahan.”

I fought the smile tugging at my lips but lost. Her ridiculous metaphors were just as entertaining on paper.

“Well, well, well.” Evan leaned forward. “What’s this? Is our resident grump softening?”

“Shut up, and we both know that Archer wears that crown.” Although, I had to admit that at times, I gave him a run for his money.

“No, no, this is fascinating! Did she warm your frozen heart with her?—”

“Who’s warming what now?” Archer appeared in the doorway, immaculate as always in his designer suit. Because apparently, courtroom attire is appropriate for a mountain resort.

“Liam’s got a crush on?—”

“I do not have a crush,” I cut Evan off, probably too quickly judging by his shit-eating grin. “She’s a guest. And a student. And recently dumped, apparently.”

“Ah, the plot thickens!” Evan clutched the feedback form to his chest dramatically.

“Don’t you two have actual work to do?” I growled, turning back to my laptop. “Like, oh I don’t know, running this disaster?”

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