Page 73 of Faking It For Real

I sighed dramatically but nodded. "Fine. But when I break something important, you're explaining to my professor why I can't hold a camera."

"Deal."

To my surprise, I didn't break anything. In fact, by the third run down the beginner slope, I was actually enjoying myself. Ethan was a patient teacher, offering guidance without being condescending, and his genuine delight when I successfully navigated a turn without falling was infectious.

"See? You're a natural," he beamed as we reached the bottom of the slope for the fourth time.

"Hardly," I laughed, flushed with cold and excitement. "But it's more fun than I expected."

"Want to try the intermediate slope? I promise it's not much steeper."

I hesitated, torn between my newfound confidence and healthy self-preservation instincts. "Maybe after lunch? I should take some photos for the paper while the light's good."

He nodded understandingly. "Photographer first, ski bunny second."

"Did you just call me a ski bunny?"

"Would you prefer 'snow angel'? 'Winter warrior'?"

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "Just for that, you get to be my camera mule." I handed him my equipment bag. "Make yourself useful, hockey star."

We spent the next hour wandering the resort while I captured images for the paper. Through my lens, I found moments of genuine camaraderie among the team—Sanchez and Reyes building a snow fort with surprising engineering skill; Tyler leading an impromptu snowball fight that devolved into belly laughs when Coach got hit; freshmen getting tips from seniors on their skiing technique.

But increasingly, my camera found its way back to Ethan. There was something about the way the winter light caught his profile, softening his usually sharp features.

"Find anything good?" he asked, coming to stand beside me as I reviewed shots on my camera's display.

"A few," I admitted, carefully skipping past the ones where he was the sole focus. "The lighting's perfect today."

He leaned closer to see the screen, his warm breath fogging slightly in the cold air. "These are incredible, Mia. You make us look like we actually know what we're doing."

"That's the magic of photography," I smiled. "Making the mundane look extraordinary."

"Is that what you're doing with me?" he asked quietly, his eyes finding mine. "Making me look better than I am?"

The question caught me off guard. "No," I answered honestly. "If anything, I just show what's already there that most people don't take the time to see."

Something shifted in his expression, an openness that made my heart race. For a long moment, we just looked at each other, the noise of the resort fading to background static.

The spell was broken by Dylan's voice calling Ethan's name. We turned to see him waving from the base of the advanced slope, gesturing for Ethan to join them.

"You should go," I said, trying to ignore the disappointment I felt. "I know you're dying to hit the real slopes."

"You sure?" he asked, hesitating.

"Positive. Go show off your hockey-adjacent skills. I'll get more candids for the paper."

He squeezed my hand briefly before jogging over to join his teammates. I watched through my viewfinder as he integrated seamlessly into their group, instantly more animated as they headed toward the chairlift.

"Subtle," Olivia's voice came from behind me. I turned to find her on a nearby bench, nursing a steaming cup of something that smelled like mulled cider.

"What?"

"The longing stares, the lingering touches," she mimicked, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "Very subtle. No one would ever guess you're actually falling for your fake boyfriend."

I sat beside her with a groan. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's known you since freshman orientation," she assured me, passing me her cup to share.

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