Page 4 of Spoil
I blanch at the phrase ‘big slopes’, but he winks at me, and I know he’s teasing. God, he’s so easy to be around. I bet flirting with all his female clients leads to better reviews online. I’m sure it’s part of his shtick. A way to get women comfortable with him.
I follow him down the baby slope twice more and start to feel marginally more confident. I’ve come down three times now without falling, without running into anyone, and,I think, without looking like an idiot.
I follow him over to the base of the chairlift and take in his instructions on how we’re going to sit on the chairs, safety, and where my equipment needs to be. I nod dutifully, and we sit on the chair as it slides below our knees effortlessly. He pulls the bar down across our laps and directs me to put my skis on a little rod designed for it.
“So, Penelope, we have five minutes until we get to the top. Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What’s your family like? Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband? Asking for a friend...”
I chuckle at his liveliness until he leans in and nudges his shoulder with mine. “It’s me. I’m the friend.”
This pulls a deep belly laugh from me, and I realize that I never belly laugh. I’ve never had the opportunity to. I like the feeling ofbeing free and light that Daniel brings out in me. And I have the sobering realization that I’ll miss this when it ends.
I don’t have a Daniel in my life. I have a Cara. A wonderful, kind, caring best friend. But I don’t have someone who lifts me, flirts with me, praises me, and makes me belly-laugh.
“I’m from just outside of Washington, DC. Mom passed away two weeks after I was born in a car accident. Grew up with a single dad. But he recently got remarried, and now I have two stepsisters. I work in daycare because I love kids, and no...” I toss him a sly smile. “No boyfriend. No fiancé.” I even dare to flirt back a little. It’s only for today. I might as well enjoy him. I nudge him back with my shoulder. “You know, for your friend.”
He’s turned himself in the chair to face me, but I’m still facing directly ahead, so I watch him out of the corner of my eye. The smirk he throws at me is wolfish and full of male interest.
I nudge him again. “And what about Daniel... oh... I don’t remember your last name!”
“That’s because I never told you. It’s King. And ask me anything.”
I parrot his words back to him. “Where are you from? What’s your family like? Girlfriend? Fiancé?”
“I’m from Boston. Grew up with wealthy but cold parents. One sister, who is now in heaven. And no...” he drags out the anticipation, and I find my body leaning toward him. “No girlfriend. No fiancé. No situationship. No one who thinks we’re anything, where I keep it intentionally vague. No friends with benefits. No women in my life whatsoever, except for my coworkers. And I have a strict rule about coworkers.”
“Coworkers, eh? Must have a good story there.”
“No story really, just hard to break up with someone when you live with them. Makes it awkward. Learned that one from a friend.”
I turn to him with a gasp. “You live together?”
His joy at my shock is genuine. He nods like an enthusiastic puppy. “Above the shops in the village are apartments and dormitories.”
“You live here. At a ski resort?”
He nods again.
I slump back in the chair. I can’t imagine living at a ski resort; having the resort all to yourself at night? Do they ski at night? Do they have lights? Are they allowed to use it? Probably not.
“You’re trying to imagine what kind of trouble we get into at night, aren’t you?”
He’s leaned in closer to my ear. He’s not touching me, but the proximity has heat crawling up my neck. God, his voice is sexy when it goes low and intimate. I want to hear him whisper a million dirty things in my ear. God, what would he whisper in my ear in bed? Dirty promises? Sweet praise?
A shiver works its way up my body, and I pray he doesn’t see it under all my bulky clothes.
Before I can reply, though, our lift approaches the top, and he switches into business mode.
“Okay, so we’re going to scoot to the edge of the seat and lift the bar.... here.” He lifts the bar. “We’re going to keep the tips of our skis pointed up, and when we stand on our feet, we’re going to glide away from the lift and to the side so we can get our bearings safely.”
He motions a ‘thumbs down’ at the operator’s station. “If you ever feel uncomfortable and want the lift to slow down, simply motion a thumbs down at the operator and he’ll slow it down for you.”
“You can do that?”
His smile is easy and unaffected. “Of course. You’ve paid a lot of money to come out here skiing. It’s your day. Your adventure. They’re paid to make your experience perfect.”
Wow, I never would have thought of inconveniencing the other people on the lift by asking the operator to slow down. But Daniel has no problem asking that. He’s so... in charge. In control. So unapologetically taking up space. He doesn’t mind inconveniencing other people to ensure he has a good time.
But of course, that’s it, isn’t it? It’s not even really an inconvenience. So, the people on the lift have to wait a few seconds more. Is that really a big deal? To ensure I make it off the lift safely and comfortably. There’s a lot to unpack here, and I have no time to process it, because I tilt up my skis, we touch land, and I glide down the ramp.
