“Not quite yet. I’m gonna teach you to ride the other snow-ski,” I say, sipping my coffee. “Out in the forest. You up for it?”
Billie’s mouth drops open, a mix of excitement and fear.
“Ride it? Like, by myself? That’s… kinda scary.” He bites his lip, clutching Felix, who’s tucked under his arm like a security blanket. “I mean…”
“You’ll be fine,” I say, my tone firm but warm. “I’ll be right there, showing you how. You did great on the ride to town yesterday. This’ll be even better.”
Billie’s nervousness doesn’t surprise me—he was scared before the town trip, but I know he’s got the spirit for it. The boy just needs a little push.
After breakfast, we bundle up, him in a new insulated jacket we picked up in town along with the pajamas and a wooly hat that was already at the cabin, me in my usual gear, and head out to the shed.
The snow’s deep, the blizzard still swirling, but the forest path is clear enough for what I’ve got planned. I pull out the second snow-ski, a bit smaller than the one we took to town, perfect for him to handle.
Billie eyes it warily, his hands twisting in his gloves.
“It looks…fast,” Billie says, his voice small.
“It is fast,” I say, checking the engine. “But you’re tougher than you think. I’ll show you the basics, and we’ll take it slow. Hold onto Felix if you need him. Or better yet, strap him in on your lap. I’m sure the little fuzzball would love to hit top speed. After all, he is a snow leopard!”
I wink, and Billie giggles, clutching his stuffy tighter.
I walk him through the controls—throttle, brake, steering—keeping my instructions clear and simple. I can tell that he’s nervous, his hands shaking as he grips the handlebars, but Billie listens, his eyes focused on me like I’m his lifeline.
“Okay, Daddy,” Billie says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s try it.”
We start slow, me riding beside him on the bigger ski, guiding him through the snowy path.
Billie wobbles at first, his squeals half-terror, half-excitement, but he’s a quick learner. Within minutes, he’s getting the hang of it, leaning into the turns, his laughter echoing through the trees.
“Look, Daddy, I’m doing it!” Billie calls, his voice bright, and I can’t help but grin.
He’s a natural, his pop star confidence kicking in, and soon he’s speeding up, his hat bouncing as he races ahead.
“Let’s make it fun,” I call, revving my engine. “Race you to that big pine up there!”
I point to a towering tree in the distance, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.
“You’resoon!” Billie shouts, and we’re off, tearing through the snow-covered forest, the skis kicking up powder in our wake.
The blizzard’s wind stings my face, but I’m focused on him, watching the boy lean into the ride, his body moving with a grace that reminds me of his magnetic and dynamic stage presence.
The boy is fearless now, weaving between trees, his laughter wild and free.
My heart’s pounding, not just from the speed but from seeing him like this—so alive, sohim.
We reach the pine, and he pulls ahead at the last second, skidding to a stop with a triumphant whoop.
“I won!” Billie cries, hopping off the ski, his cheeks flushed, his eyes blazing with exhilaration.
He’s breathing hard, snow dusting his jacket, and I can see the arousal in him, the way his lips part, his body practically vibrating with energy.
It’s the same fire I saw last night, when he knelt for me, when he gave himself over so completely.
My pulse kicks up, and I’m fighting every instinct to pull him close, right here in the snow.
“You’re a natural, Little One,” I say, my voice rough as I climb off my ski. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
Billie grins, stepping closer, his breath puffing out in the cold.
