Page 19 of The Christmas Playbook
After we’ve given our orders and the conversation dies down—along with my nerves, thanks to Rhys’s comforting rubbing against my knee—Cammie places her elbows on the table and rests her chin in the palms of her hands.
“Are you a skier, Rhys?”
Rhys leans back in his chair, giving a full view of how his hand is on my thigh under the table. “I’ve skied, but snowboarding is more my thing.”
Cammie immediately flicks her amused gaze to me. “Mira, too. She always chooses to snowboard when we go skiing.” Cammie twirls her hair in her finger. “Actually, we’ve never even seen her snowboard. For all we know, she hides out in the cabin, pretending to hit the slopes.”
Rhys’s hand travels up my thigh, and I’m sure he’s trying to distract me, but sadly, nothing can distract me from my sister’s annoying laugh.
“That’s not true,” I argue. “You’re just too busy dry-humping Andrew to know what’s going on around you.”
“Mira,” my mom warns.
Rhys’s hand clamps onto my leg, and he clears his throat. I’m pretty sure it’s to hide his laugh.
“Okay, fine.” Cammie leans forward with a fake smile, and I know she’s baiting me. “Andrew and I will come with you and your boyfriend to Bear’s Peak, then.”
“Bear’s Peak?” Rhys repeats. “That’s the highest?—”
“We meet at ten.” I raise an eyebrow at my sister, and pride swells in my chest.
Unfortunately, that pride disappears as soon as I realize that I’ve just signed my own death warrant.
I’ve never snowboarded in my life.
CHAPTER 9
RHYS
Mira has never snowboardedin her life, but she sure is sexy as hell trying.
After breakfast, which went a lot better than I was expecting, we parted ways to get dressed. My lovely fake girlfriend kept her mouth shut while we suited up. First, it was the leggings that clung to her thighs and ass. Then theshimmyshe did to get those white snow pants up over her hips. She paired it with a matching white jacket and helmet and rainbow, mirrored goggles.
It really goes with her ice queen vibe—the pale skin, light-blonde hair, blue eyes. Of course, those features are all now safely hidden away, protected from the cold wind that’ll soon assault us.
It went downhill once we grabbed our boards and headed out.
First, she tried to clip into her board backward, which didn’t even make sense. The bindings are kind of self-explanatory. I had a good chuckle about that, and it earned me one of her pretty glares.
Once that was sorted, she inched toward the lift in some sort of wiggle, both boots clipped in, and her eyebrows hiked whenI tugged her to a stop. Luckily, no one saw her. Probably. The line was already long, and we were immediately separated from Cammie and Andrew.Unfortunately, they ended up behind us, so there was no chance of Mira and me ducking away.
“You’ve been on a lift before, right?”
I collect another glare for my collection, filed underIf Looks Could Kill. Damn. I hold up my hands in surrender, hoping for a smile.
Or a smirk.
I’d settle for a rueful headshake at this point.
Nada.
And then, suddenly, we’re next up. This lift is fancy, which means shuffling forward when the attendant motions, facing the mountain, and letting the chair come up behind us to sweep us away.
Mira lets out a squeak when the bar hits the backs of her knees. I grab her gloved hand, and once our feet have left the ground, I reach up with my free hand and lower the bar in front of us. She slips her hand from mine and grips the bar hard.
“Mira.”
She shakes her head.
