“I don’t have the commitment,” Oliver joked.
My smile faded a little at his words. Mattie clocked it immediately and tilted her head. We shared a look, but I brushed it off and returned my attention to Oliver.
It didn’t matter if he couldn’t commit to anything. I didn’t need him to. This was only temporary and I was absolutely and completely fine with that.
“I can’t,”I insisted, shaking my head at a very excited-looking Oliver.
“You have to.” He pulled on my hand and forced me to take hold of the end of the ski.
“This is going to go all over my face,” I insisted, looking down at the shot glass glued to an old ski.
“It’s tradition,” Oliver said.
“Is it?” I looked at Mattie skeptically, but she was already holding on to the middle of the ski and shrugging her shoulders in defeat.
“I mean, people do them all the time,” she admitted.
“Have you?”
Giles chuckled. “Your sister has lived here almost three years now and has never done a shotski.”
“Leave it to Oliver to convince her,” I mumbled, begrudgingly taking the ski.
Oliver’s smile was too big to turn down. It was like telling the cutest puppy in the world that you weren’t going to take them for a walk.
“Alright,” Oliver called, sliding in next to me. “Pour it.”
The bartender came around from behind the bar and poured a clear liquid into the glasses that I hoped was tequila, but feared was vodka.
Oliver and Giles stood at either end of the ski and crouched down so that they wouldn’t tower over Mattie and me as the bartender counted down from three.
“Three, two, one,” she called.
We all tipped the ski toward our mouths. The shot glass made contact with my lips, and I held my breath as I downed whatever it was. Thankfully, the pleasant taste of peppermint infiltrated my senses, and warmth flooded my chest.
“Again?” Oliver asked.
“No!” I called over the loud music.
The chairlifts had shut down, and Key Ridge Ski Resort was officially closed for the season. The crowd, and anyone skiing or boarding today, had migrated from the mountain to the party at the base of the hill. Live music blared through the speakers. We’d stayed by the stage to watch the band for a little, but the crowd had gotten too large. Even though the sun had dipped behind the mountain and there was now a definite chill in the air, people remained outside, not caring in the slightest. I suspected the layer of liquor and beer most people were wearing had something to do with it.
Oliver spun me around, pulling me toward him to dance when the band started to play a more upbeat song. I tried to remember the last time I’d had this much fun and came up completely short.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You look beautiful.”
My cheeks instantly flushed and I shook my head on instinct. “I look like a mess,” I corrected, knowing my nose was red from the sun and my hair was starting to frizz.
“A beautiful mess,” he said, before stealing a quick kiss.
My heart leapt into my throat in a sensation that could only be described as giddy.
“Get a room, you two,” Mattie called, tucking her way through a group of people and joining us.
“Not a bad idea.” Oliver winked down at me.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I instantly recognized the New York area code.
“I have to take this.” I barely got the words out before I was pushing past people, trying to get far away from the music so I could hear the phone call. Maybe I should let it go to voicemail. I was likely a little too buzzed to be taking a professional call right now, but I was anticipating this news way too much to not take it.
