Wade grins. “I’m serious. The deck heaters are on and the water’s perfect.”
I glance down at myself, then around the table. “I didn't bring a swimsuit. In my defense, I didn't think I'd need one at a ski resort.”
“That’s fixable,” Cole says easily, glancing quickly at Gray before grinning at me. “The shop downstairs carries them. I’ll buy you one.”
It lands strangely enough that I blink at him in confusion.
“No, you absolutely will not,” I say, already laughing. “That is an insane thing to offer.”
Cole lifts one shoulder. “I’m a giver.”
Jackson coughs into his beer in a way that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
“I can buy my own swimsuit,” I tell him.
Before Cole can say anything else, Grayson grunts. “I’ll get it.”The words come out low and rough, and he doesn’t look at me—just tips back the rest of his drink like this whole conversation is inconveniencing him personally.
Wade, who seems to have more sense than the rest of them combined, claps his hands once and stands. “Great. Problem solved. Shop’s still open for another twenty.”
And that is how I end up being marched downstairs with Dana and Mandy while the men trail behind us, all of them acting varying degrees of normal except for Grayson, who is so quiet he may as well be grunting through clenched teeth.
The pool deck looks unreal at night.
Snowbanks glow under the soft amber lighting. Steam curls off the water in pale ribbons, the surface shimmering dark and gold. The deck itself is lined with heaters that throw pockets of warmth into the mountain air, enough that climbing out won’t feel like immediate death.
Dana is already easing herself into the water with a soft groan of relief. Mandy is less graceful, practically throwing herself in with a yelp about how good it feels. I step in more carefully and nearly moan.
“Oh my god.”
“It’s insane, right?” Dana says, smiling.
“It’s like being boiled alive in a really pleasant way.”
“Exactly,” Mandy says, sweeping wet hair off her face. “You get me.”
Cole stays up on the edge with his calves in, soda balanced near one hand. Dana drifts over to him, and Mandy immediately starts swimming lazy circles like she has all the time in the world.
I rest my arms up on the edge beside Cole, my gaze snagging on Grayson as he takes a seat with Wade and Jackson, the three of them on loungers near the edge of the pool. Gray's got a drink in hand, his jacket gone, his dark sweater stretched over broad shoulders, looking unfairly good in the glow from the deck lights. His gaze drops over me once, taking in the top of the dark green one-piece and the bare sweep of my back, and then he looks away like it cost him something.
The conversation starts easily after that, loosened by drinks and steam and the weird intimacy of sitting outside half submergedin warm water while snow clings to the edges of the mountains around us. Wade tells me about one of Jackson’s earliest visits to the resort, back when he was apparently determined to prove he could ski anything with enough confidence and absolutely no patience.
“I was good,” Jackson says.
“You skied directly into a fence,” Wade replies.
“It was a low fence!”
Cole looks at me. “Wait until you hear about Grayson trying to shotgun a beer off the back of a party bus while it was moving.”
I turn fast enough that water ripples around my shoulders. “No way.”
“Jesus Christ,” Grayson mutters, his head tipping back like he doesn't have the patience for this.
Wade leans forward, delighted already. “Oh, I need this story.”
Cole is grinning now in that way he gets when he knows he has something good. “Bronco's fundraiser after-party. Gray was already drunk off his ass and somebody dared him to do it while hanging off the ladder at the back of the bus.”
“I was not hanging.”
