Page 11 of Ski You Later
I channel my emotions from the entire weekend into my leg, putting all my force behind it and waiting for the ice around it to crack.
“I heard it’s easier to just pull them out of the snow,” a deep voice chuckles behind me.
I whip around at the sound, shock mixing with my anger as I take him in.
Roman uses his skis as poles as he crests the pitch, gently placing them both on the snow before he makes his way to me.
“What? How? What?” My words unintentionally turn into questions as I look at him quizzically. How is he even here? Didn’t he go into the lodge with the rest of the team?
“I heard. Pulling them out of the snow. Is easier.” He mimics the motions of pulling a gate out of the snow as he over-annunciates each word.
My confused expression quickly turns into a glare that could rival his as I lift my goggles to the rim of my helmet. “Oh, thank you for that explanation, Huxley,” I quip, using his last name like he did mine.
His eyes widen a fraction, the slight lift of his lip visible before his expression is schooled back into neutrality. “Sorry, Langley, I’ll just let you get back to it then.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks at me expectantly, and I can’t describe the flutter like feeling in my stomach.
I turn away from him before I get too distracted, mumbling as I go back to my task. Grabbing the very bottom of the gate, I use my legs to pull straight up. The piece in the ground is covered in bristles that stick to the snow but should slide right out at this angle. The currentissue is that the bristles are frozen to the ground and need a big tug to get them free.
I feel a slight shift in the gate under my hands, my mood brightening significantly right before my boot slips on the ice, and I go flying backwards.
Easy to say my emotions are all over the place at this point as I remain flat on the ground. If I weren’t wearing a helmet and a protector strapped to my back, this probably would have hurt a lot more. While my butt gives a light throb as I sit up, it’s actually the howling laughter that grabs my full attention.
Roman’s arms are now wrapped around his stomach, his form bent over at the waist as he lets out another bout of laughter. My jaw drops all on its own, never in all my years of knowing him, has he ever laughed like this.
While I usually love to hear others laugh, the fact that it’s at my expense does nothing but get on my nerves. Crossing my arms over my chest now, each laugh causes my eye to twitch.
“I can’t believe you’re just standing there, laughing at me,” I say outraged.
He has the nerve to let out a joyful sigh as he puts his goggles up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “That was hilarious, Langley.”
The use of my last name two times in a row makes me grit my teeth and I try to stay calm. Putting my arm behind me, I smack my boot into the ice, so I don’t slip again and carefully push myself up. Before I’m even halfway off the ground, he appears right in front and grabs me.
His hand closes around mine, with the other one lightly gripping me under my bicep. He easily pulls me to my feet, and keeps me steady as I find my footing.
“Thanks,” I mutter. Walking past him and going towards the panelled gate in the snow. The sound of his boots is right behind me as I approach this gate, and I’m more determined than ever to get it out.
Roman’s presence behind me is doing nothing but motivate me more as I grip the bottom post. With every ounce of strength left in me, I pull up and feel the shift of the bristles in the ice. As the gate gives out, my upper body shoots upward with the gate in my hand.
It doesn’t take two seconds before I drop the gate, whip around, and shove my finger into Roman’s chest. “Ha! I did it! I told you!”
He grabs onto my out-stretch wrist without a second thought, his hold gentle but firm. Leaning down closer to me, his glare stays locked in place as one of hiseyebrows quirks up. “I never said you couldn’t do it,” he snips.
“You implied it,” I respond immediately. Pulling my shoulders back so I can look him in the eye better.
“I did nothing of the sort,” he says confused.
“You laughed at me!” My temper starts to slip as he continues to play coy.
“You did something funny,” he drawls back. I try to ignore the way it snakes over my skin, causing my thoughts to scatter before me.
He’s close to me now, much closer than I remember him being. “Well, I’m still upset with you,” I declare. Turning around and confidently stomping towards my skis.
Unfortunately, he’s back in my path before I can make it another two steps. His brow is still raised, but now it’s mixed with a confused expression.
“What? What have I done?” His question seems to be the straw that broke the camel’s back for me as every terrible part of this weekend bubbles to the surface. My suppressed emotions mix with my current thoughts, and I take a giant step into his space.
“Who. In their right mind. Books a training day. Seven hours. Before it even starts!” I can’t help but getlouder as each set of words comes out of my mouth. My finger goes back to stabbing him in the chest, with each poke freeing some of my pent-up emotions.
His gaze turns critical as he starts to look over me again. The playfulness that had danced in his eyes disappears, and I can’t describe the regret that suddenly floods me at this. His signature scowl is locked back in place and he just glares down at me.
