Page 71 of Avalanche
Probably is good, I guess. It’s better than I was at the start of the season, when I’d barely been able to get certified to teach at this mountain. When I’d been one of the worst in the class.
“Like, eighty percent?” He throws me a glance over his shoulder. “Maybe more. It’s a hard exam, but I think you’d nail it.”
I nod, my lungs tightening as I make my way through thigh deep powder, winding between the sap covered trees. I guess that’s about as good as I could expect, all things considered. It’s not bad odds.
But it’s not perfect, either. There’s still a risk. A chance that I could fly all the way to New Zealand, fail the first exam, and be out of work for months until I could sit the second one.
I let out a sigh, the sound swallowed up by the trees.
We’re deep in the forest now, far enough that the groomed slopes are completely invisible and even the scraping of skis and murmur of voices is muted. Above us, blue sky peeks through thin slits of deep green and white, sunlight dappling the snow in little patches beneath a velvet canopy.
“That’s not bad, you know.” Liam pulls me to a fallen aspen, the smooth trunk arching above the snow drifts, only slightly damp from melted snow. He guides me to sit, coming to stand between my spread knees, his gloved hands on my thighs. “You’ll probably pass, but if you don’t, you can just take the next exam. It’s not a huge deal.”
I blink up at him, frowning. Not a huge deal? He knows how hard I’ve been training for this all season. How much I want this.
“But if I don’t pass?” I rasp. “What am I supposed to do then? I need to work, Liam.”
My gaze drops to his chest, to the little gold name tag on his jacket. Liam Sutherland. Wanaka, New Zealand.
The first time I ever heard of Wanaka was when I met him. When Liam was just my aloof instructor and Wanaka was no more than a word printed across his name badge. Now, it’s my future. Still unknown and unexperienced, but I’ve imagined it so frequently that I can taste it—a life with all five of these guys. A home. A future.
And that life involves me passing the instructor’s exam and working.
“We’ll take care of you.”
My gaze snaps up, meeting Liam’s with a gasp.
He gives me a bemused grin. “I’m not talking about living off Antoine’s money. We don’t even know if it’s going to come through or not, and anyway, that’s his. No, I mean all of us. You’ve got five boyfriends, Lily. We’re all going to be working. Or at least most of us will be…”
He trails off, frowning, gaze going momentarily distant. I wonder if he’s thinking of Seth. Sweet, sweet Seth who will be finally coming home this afternoon. Who is going to be off work for weeks, at the very least. Maybe longer.
“If we can’t support you, if we can’t support each other, then what the fuck are we even doing?”
I shake my head, brow pinching. It doesn’t seem right, relying on any of these guys for money, asking them to pay my way while I train. Not when they’re all struggling just as much as I am, when we can barely afford rent with the six of us as it is.
“I couldn’t…”
“Of course you can. And you will. We’re a team, the six of us. You’re my partner.” He scrunches up his nose, then adds: “I guess they all are, in a weird way. I mean, Antoine obviously. But the rest of them too. Seth…” He clears his throat. “They all mean a lot to me. What we have, this whole thing. It’s not what I’d ever have chosen for myself. But now that I have it, I can’t imagine life any other way.” He bends down, bringing his face level with my own. “I can’t imagine life without you.”
My breath hitches, the world suddenly seeming unsteady beneath me. I reach out, grasping the sides of Liam’s coat in an effort to steady myself.
“I can’t imagine life without you either.”
My words are whisper soft, like snowflakes settling between us. Those other words seem to drift between us too, unspoken. I can taste them on my tongue, remember the feel of them, but I don’t dare say them. Not yet. Not again.
I don’t think I could bear to hear the answering silence again.
“Does that mean you’ll let me take care of you?” Liam lifts one brow in challenge. “Let me be your back-up plan, if you don’t pass straight away? Or, your safety net, if you’d rather think of it that way.” He quirks a smile. “Since you’re determined to pass on the first round.”
A safety net.
There’s something incredibly tempting about that. Trusting another person to have my back. Knowing that it’s not just me against the world.
“Only if you let me be yours,” I concede, my cheeks aching with cold as I smile despite myself.
“Deal,” he whispers.
And then he’s closing the space between us, tightening his hold on my hips as he slants his lips against mine. I gasp, wrapping my arms around his waist to keep from sliding off the fallen log, my booted feet lifting off the snow, my spread thighs widening to bring him closer, until I can feel his body flush against my own.
