Page 69 of See You Next Winter
“I wouldn’t want to rush anything and do something you regret, but I would love a third date if you have some space in your schedule.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, I absolutely am,” he smirks, walking backwards away from me with his hands fixing the front of his trousers.
Inside, it takes under five minutes to bring myself to orgasm, and I come screaming his name like a curse.
Chapter 54
Kayla
The mountain is buzzingwith people when the ski slopes open and she returns to her full winter glory. We’ve only had a few snow showers in the village, but there’s still something so pure and childlike about stepping out of the house and catching snowflakes with my tongue.
Knowing things will be busy soon, I blocked today out in my calendar, wanting a day on the mountain that’s just for me. The snowpack is still forming, but there’s good coverage on some of the higher slopes, so I head out early to get my ski legs back before stopping atThe Marmotfor lunch.
The packed terrace is full of locals waiting for their first French onion soup of the season, and I stop to say hi to a few friendly faces. I’m about to head inside to order when I spot Ryan sitting on a deckchair, book in one hand, cold beer in the other.
My heart soars when I see him. That’s my man, right there, chilling out and soaking up the winter sun like it’s what he was born to do.
My man.
The thought is like a snowball straight in the face, a cold shower bringing me to my senses.
What am I playing at?
My body casts him in shadow as I approach, and he shields his hand to look up and see who stole his sunshine.
“Oh hi, Bunny. How are you?”
I’ve kept my distance these past couple of weeks, hiding when I see him in town, avoiding the chalet and Rico’s in case I run into him there. But he’s still here, and this is getting ridiculous.
I should be able to sit in his lap, kiss him freely, catch up on our days. More than that, I should have skied with him this morning, should have woken up in his arms and drank our morning coffee in our pyjamas with the radio on.
That’s my man, and he's here in the mountains, and it’s time to stop this nonsense.
“I’m ready for our third date,” I tell him. He sets his beer down on the low plastic table next to him.
“Sounds great. Just name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
“My house. Now.”
His jaw drops, and he leans forward, but then crosses his arms and sinks back down again. “Ah, but I’ve got this beer, good book, and the view is super nice today. I don’t know if you noticed.”
I roll my eyes and kick his ski boot with mine. “Do you want to fuck me or not?”
He bursts out laughing, then has the nerve to pick his beer back up and finish it painfully slowly, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
Once it's finished, he tucks his book inside his jacket pocket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then reaches out for me to help him up out of the low deckchair.
We’ve spent many an afternoon laughing at folks struggling to get out of these while afflicted by a triple threat combination of ski boots, wet deck, and one beer at altitude.
I’m about to take his hand when I change my mind and start backing away. His brows knit together and he watches me hop downfrom the edge of the deck and run over to where I’ve left my kit in a sea of skis. Thankfully mine are custom, so they’re easy to spot.
“Last one to the bottom’s a rotten egg!” I yell back at him, fastening my helmet, then clipping my boots into my skis, grabbing my poles and shooting off down the hill. I always win our races, but there’s never a prize, until now.
“You're a sneak, Kayla!” I hear him call after me, boots clomping on the wood as he runs to find his own skis from the stand. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
Here’s hoping.
