Page 12 of Just Shred

“My middle name. So now I have your number, and you have mine,” he says, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “So excited, or are you scared?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Do we have a deal, Ace?” he asks, holding out his hand, waiting for my next move. His rough, husky voice doing things to my insides.

I reluctantly take his hand in mine. “You have a deal, Jesse.”

“Deal,” he repeats, holding on to my hand.

I bite down on my lip. “I still don’t know why you want to help—”

“Fuck’s sake, woman, do you question everything that happens to you on a daily basis?”

“Ugh, yeah,” I stammer, wiping my sweaty palms on my snowboard pants.

He takes a step closer to me, getting right in my face. “Well, don’t. Just shred, babe.”

“Do any of you snowboard guys actually know what that means?” I ask, my cheeks heating up while he looks at my mouth for a second.

He shakes his head, laughing his ass off, giving me a wave. Then he flips the hood of his black sweatshirt up and swaggers away. Damn, his walk is even hot. Three kids stop dead in their tracks and ask him for a photo. He crouches down to get in the frame with them. Weird, why do they want to take a picture with him? Turning around, he gives me one of his lopsided smiles, dimples popping. Guy’s too cute for his own good, and I can’t stop watching him.

“Hey, you still have my gloves,” I yell.

He turns around, walking backwards. “You get them back tomorrow,” he drawls, his tongue between his teeth. “Twelve. Next to the lift, don’t be late!”

“Give me back my gloves,” I shout. I don’t care how many people give me funny looks.

“No,” he yells, a smile tugging on his lips. “Before you know it, you’ll be carving with the best.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” I grind out. Some parents give me angry looks, and the little kids giggle. “Sorry,” I tell them apologetically.

He grins, shaking his head, and I watch him walk away like a man who doesn’t have a care in the world. Still smiling, I make my way back to my warm motel room for a well-deserved beer, or twelve.

The next day, I meet him at the bottom of the slope. Before I get there, he orders me to get a helmet that fits, by text. No hello, no emoticon to fluff it up. He’s a man of few words, apparently. After some eye rolling on my part, I get a freaking helmet. Dude isn’t exactly what you would call text-friendly. I guess my overuse of emoticons also leaves some room for debate. Usually, I’m nervous before going on a date. I snort… this is so definitely not a date. Jesse is only helping me out. Because? The little voice in the back of my head asks. I have no idea.

“You made it,” he says, smiling brightly as my feet disappear in the fresh powder.

“Yeah, I made it,” I mutter, struggling with the board in my arms.

He hands me back my gloves. “As promised.”

“Thank you for helping me out.”

“Just being neighborly.”

“Uhh, are you?”

“You know what I mean, Ace.” He winces a little when he tugs the board under his arm.

“Are you okay?” I ask as he walks in front of me. Jesse looks like shit, like he hasn’t slept, and judging by the purple bruise under his eye, he probably got into a fight. Growing up with brothers, I’ve seen enough black eyes to last a lifetime.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, his voice getting a dark edge to it.

“Okay, sorry I asked,” I say, holding up one hand in surrender. “If you want to skip today, that’s fine by me.”

He shakes his head and stares at the mountain in front of us. It’s still rather early, but judging by the bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept at all. “No, this is the only fun I’ll be having today.” He chuckles and winks at me. When he straightens his spine, a muscle in his jaw flexes like he’s in pain.

“You sure you’re okay? You look kind of…” I say, not knowing how to finish my sentence.

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