Page 4 of All in December
Caleb is sexy as hell.
I thought he was attractive when I first saw him in the lift line, though I don’t think he noticed me. Still, I took the chance to ask if he wanted to ride together since he seemed to be with his son, too.
As soon as we started talking, I didn’t want to stop. There’s this quiet, slightly shy energy about him, but I get the sense there’s more underneath it. It already feels like something I want to figure out.
Now that he’s free of his ski gear, I’ve confirmed I was right—he’s definitely attractive. His cheeks are still flushed from the cold, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s a few inches shorter than me, with short, messy, dirty-blond hair, and pale blue eyes with hazel flecks that catch the light when he looks up.
He’s glanced at me a couple of times, and I can’t tell if he’s feeling what I’m feeling or if I’m imagining it. There’s just something about him that’s pulling me in.
Dating has been a complete shit show since my ex-wifeand I divorced four years ago—and by shit show, I mean it’s barely happened. I’ve dated a couple of women and a few men since then, and every time, I’ve wanted to teleport myself home mid-conversation. They were all fine. Kind, mostly. But I could tell they weren’t for me.
I’ve also stopped agreeing to blind dates. Especially the ones where well-meaning friends tried to set me up with their “sweet gay coworker” once I told them I’m bi. Just because someone’s also into men does not mean we’re a match made in queer heaven. I don’t understand why straight people think that’s the only qualifier. Like “Oh! You’re both attracted to men? And breathing? It’s fate!” when it’s most definitely not.
Needless to say, I’ve stopped dating altogether. It’s been easier to focus on Benji and Emma and work. There’s far less disappointment that way. But now Caleb is sitting across from me, talking to our sons, and I’m feeling a buzz in my chest that hasn’t been there in years. I’m warm and curious and desperate for more time with him, and we haven’t even parted ways yet.
“Dad, I’m full,” Benji complains, pushing his tray away.
“Me too,” Sam echoes, and Caleb and I both laugh.
Without saying anything, we both start picking off the boys’ trays, finishing what they couldn’t as our lunch.
“Alright, ready to go back out?” I ask once we’ve cleared the table.
Everyone nods, and we hit the bathroom then layer back up with our coats, gloves, helmets, and goggles.
Outside, the snow’s falling steadier now, white flakes catching on our goggles and dusting our jackets as we grab our skis from the rack. The air has an extra layer of chill to it now with the wind, but there’s nothing better than skiing while the snow’s still falling.
Once we’ve all grabbed our skis from the rack, we make our way to the lift line. We agree on one more run to start and then to see how everyone’s feeling afterward. It’s only midday, but my legs are already tired, and I know I’m going to feel it tomorrow. Still, I’m not quitting now, not in front of the kids, and definitely not in front of Caleb.
Not when this day feels worth holding onto.
Sam and Benji are talking a mile a minute now with their post-lunch high. They’re feeding off each other’s energy, talking about who’d win a fight between a bear and a moose, and getting louder by the sentence.
It’s hard not to smile watching Benji, clearly having a great day with his new friend.
Since the trip was a little last minute, none of his friends from school were free to come. I’d been worried it might be a lonely day for him, but now he’s beaming. Introducing myself to Caleb might’ve been the best decision I’ve made in a long time.
“Do you make it up to ski a lot?” I ask as we near the line.
He shrugs. “We try to come around ten days or so each season. I used to come more before Sam. Now it’s mostly short trips, whatever we can fit on weekends and school breaks.”
“Same,” I say. “Benji’s with me half the time, along with his sister, Emma. I always try to cram the good stuff into the time we get, but occasionally I’ll come up here without the two of them.”
He nods at me, and for a moment, we just look at each other. It feels like we both understand the responsibility of raising our kids. He hasn’t said anything about his relationship status or Sam’s mom, and the desire to know is clawing at me.
I want to ask. I want to know if he’s single, too, and if we have a chance.
But it’s far too soon for those kinds of thoughts, so I clamp my mouth shut as the chairlift swings around and scoops us up.
Once we’re settled, the boys are back at it like they never stopped.
“Benji,” Sam says, adjusting his goggles. “If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”
Benji doesn’t even hesitate. “Teleportation. Then I could go anywhere I want, whenever I want and not have to sit in traffic or ask Dad.”
I snort. “Wow. Harsh.”
Caleb chuckles beside me. “I mean… he’s got a point. Denver traffic is brutal.”
