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I don’t head up to my room.
I don’t even grab my wine and drain it like I’ve been fantasizing about ever since Ash asked to talk to me.
No, I don’t do any of those things.
Instead, I walk straight up to Luc and take his hand. He tugs a little and I let him pull me down onto his lap. His arms go around me and I nuzzle my face into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. His hands clench a little where they’re holding me, and I glance up at him, see a cautious look in his eyes as he watches me. I smile at him, wink, and then slowly—slowly—press my lips against his jaw.
Behind me, I hear the sound of a glass hitting the stones of the fire pit and shattering. I don’t bother to turn and see who dropped the glass—Ash or Cam, it doesn’t really matter. Instead, I grin into Luc’s shoulder before pressing more kisses along his neck.
His arms tighten around me and when I look up and into his eyes, I see a wickedness there that appeals to me. Along with a whole lot of laughter as his eyes dart between me and Ash. Oh, yeah, Luc knows exactly what’s up. And as his hand comes to rest on my ass, it’s fairly obvious that he has no trouble playing along.
Which is exactly what I hoped for. After all, no better way than to convince Ash I’m not interested in him than to hang all over one of his friends. Right?
Chapter 11
Ash
“I want to go.”
Fuck. I stand up from shoving my gear into my bag to face Logan, who is sitting in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and face set in a mutinous expression.
“We went over this last night, man. It’s been two years since I’ve been up there. Let me go today, scout things out and then we’ll bring you and Timmy up in the snowcat tomorrow. I just need a little time to figure out—”
“I’m not dying.”
My throat clenches up at just the mention of the word, and I have to clear it a couple times before I can speak. “Of course you’re not. Why are you even saying that?”
“Because I want to make sure you get it. Timmy’s dying. He’s the one you have to be careful of. I’m fine. I’m in this wheelchair, but I’m fine.”
I turn back to my gear so he can’t see my face—and the guilt that I know is written all over it. He isn’t fine. He’s alive. He’s healthy. But he’ll never be fine again and that’s my fault. Just like my parents’ deaths are my fault. Just like this whole clusterfuck is my fault.
I still can’t believe I’m here, can’t believe I’m about to go boarding for the first time in over six months. And maybe it’s selfish of me, maybe I’m an even bigger prick than I think I am, because I don’t want Logan to watch these first couple of runs. Don’t want anyone to watch them.
I don’t even know how I feel about getting back on the powder again. Just the thought has me freaking out deep inside, even though I won’t admit it to anyone. The idea of boarding again in front of Logan—who once loved snowboarding as much as I did, who once had h
is sights set on the 2018 Olympics as surely as mine had been set on Sochi—makes me more than a little ill. It makes me crazy.
“I just need to do this alone, dude,” I say after a minute of staring at my gear and doing absolutely nothing with it.
“Yeah,” he says a little bitterly. “These days you want to do everything alone.”
“Seriously?” I demand. “That’s where you want to go with this?”
“Where am I supposed to go, Ash? You—” He breaks off, looks away.
“I what?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, turns his chair away from me. “It doesn’t matter, right? It’s not like you’re going to change your mind.”
“Come on, Logan. You want to talk, let’s talk.”
“Why should I? It never changes. Nothing ever changes.”
And here I thought everything had changed. I can’t say that to him, though, can’t say so much of what I’m thinking to him because I don’t want him to take it the wrong way. The last thing I want to do is to hurt him, ever again. He’s already been hurt more than enough because of me.
Still, something’s eating at him. I start to push a little more, but before I can get out anything more than his name, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come on, you guys! Let’s go!” Z’s voice—loud and happy and boisterous—drifts through the door. “Conditions are going off!”
