Page 22 of Broken Bridges

But Lewis glanced at me. Fire and ice flickered through the silver shards in his eyes. I wasn’t imagining things. There was something between us. But Lewis didn’t look happy about it.

He wasn’t the only one.

Chapter 7

LEWIS

Two days later, just after a late lunch on Christmas Day, we headed toward the mountains. I’d lost my bar job back home to be here. This trip to Big Bear had better be worth it.

I planned on being around for a long time, so this strange pull I had toward Tia had to end so we could be friends. Was that even possible? Concern dug and drove into my brain, inching deeper and deeper. The way she looked at me sent unwarranted warmth coiling through my veins. She was attractive. Smart. Funny. But that was it. I didn’t feel anything for Tia. No, I didn’t. I didn’t. I didn’t. I didn’t.

Upon nightfall, Slip pulled up beside Cole’s Lamborghini SUV in front of a luxurious lodge covered in snow. Holy shit! I peered out the windshield. The two-story monstrosity with its panoramic windows, massive deck, and views across the valley looked like a freaking hotel. “When Cole said ‘cabin,’ I was expecting something tiny with shared rooms and bunk beds.”

“Uh...nope.” Slip jumped out of the car and slammed the door shut. Following him, I hopped out and headed toward the trunk. With each step, my breath misted, and thick, fresh snow crunched underneath my boots. The sickly stench of smoke from all the lodgings fireplaces filled the air.

Slip opened the back and yanked out his bag and guitar. “This joint is top-notch. Six rooms. Seven bathrooms. A hot tub. You can snowboard straight down to the chairlift over there.” He waved half-heartedly into the dark.

I grabbed my duffel bag, bass, and a portable amp, and followed him inside the cabin. The short vacation would do me a world of good too. I hadn’t had a break in years. “I’m glad I stayed.”

“It’ll do for a few days.” Slip dumped his belongings at the base of the wide wooden staircase.

Wow! I spun around, taking in the huge windows, stone fireplace, enormous blue U-shaped sofa in the sunken living area, and gourmet kitchen at the back of the lodge where the others were unpacking food and making drinks.

Before my bag had hit the ground, Cole shoved a neat bourbon in my hand. “Welcome to Tanner Manor. Glad you could stay.”

I took the glass. “You might not say that when I whip your ass on the slopes tomorrow.”

“Bring it.”

I could get used to this extravagant, spontaneous lifestyle very easily. I just needed to pass some milestones.

We joined the others in the kitchen for drinks. It was juvenile, but I kept my distance from Tia, standing as far away from her as possible. After pizza and more drinks around the fireplace, we had an early night.

The next morning, I hit the slopes with the guys. We boarded every trail. In fits of laughter, we tried to outperform each other, showing off with tricks on the rails, half-pipe, and jumps. But by mid-afternoon, my borrowed boots had rubbed my feet like a bitch.

Sitting on the snow at the top of the chairlift, I clipped into my board for another run down the slope, but one of my heels burned and screamed in agony. I’d persevered with the pain for long enough. “Fuck, guys. I’m gonna have to go via the cabin and get some Band-Aids. I have a blister or two. My foot’s killing me.”

“Pussy.” Slip chuckled, stood, and dusted the snow from his gloves.

“Never.” I jumped to my feet and shuffled toward the downhill run.

“Don’t worry about coming back out.” Cole slid beside me and pointed toward the far mountain. “Looks like a snowstorm is coming. We’ll only get another run or two in anyway.”

“And visibility is shit.” Flint glided past me, putting on his mirrored goggles. “We’ll meet you back at the cabin.”

“Sweet. I’ll have hot chocolates waiting.”

“Spike them and you’re on.” Slip took off. “See you soon.”

We sped down the slope, darting in and out of the trees, jumping over mounds of snow and zigzagging around each other. Halfway down the hill, I hollered goodbye and headed toward our cabin. The guys took off in the other direction toward the chairlifts.

After packing my board and boots away in the dry room, I peeled off my wooly socks and examined the damage. One heel was fine. But the other? Raw, red skin and watery ooze leaked from the wound the size of two dimes. Fuck. Shower first, then I’d deal with my blister.

Ten minutes later, I dragged myself out of the shower and dressed in jeans and a black hoodie.

Halfway down the stairs, I balked. My breath hitched. Crap. Tia sat on the sofa, flicking through social media feeds on her cell phone.

“Hey?” I called out softly.

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