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The following day was bright and clear, with almost no wind and plenty of sun. After a hearty breakfast, we headed to the base of the mountain to hop on the lift. I’d brought a backpack with my laptop in it with hopes I’d get a little work done on a contract my dad wanted me to look over.
When we skied off the lift mid-mountain, we headed over to the sprawling wood-sided building that housed the restaurant and ski patrol office. Parker recognized one of the guys wearing a red ski patrol parka out front by the ski stands and went over to greet him with a big hug.
“Jules, come meet Dallas,” he said with a big smile and beckoning wave. “He’s the one I did that commercial with in Sun Valley, remember?”
I popped out of my skis and leaned them against the stand before reaching out to shake his hand. “Hi, yeah, it’s great to meet you. Parker has told me so much about you. Said you blew him away on the moguls that day.”
The guy was as tall and muscular as I remembered from the commercial, with sun-streaked hair and a friendly smile. When he pulled down his sunglasses, I could see the same little laugh lines formed by the sun that Parker had from spending so much time on the slopes. “He’s a flatterer. What the heck are you doing here, Parker? I thought I heard you were getting married this week.”
I knew from Parker that the Colorado professional skiing world was a small community where everyone knew everyone, but it still surprised me sometimes. They were notorious gossipers.
“I was,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug. “But it didn’t work out. Julian brought me to Aster Valley instead. I didn’t know you worked here. How do you like it?”
“It’s killer. Love it. I found a great deal on a rental over on Sunrise Trail. You wouldn’t believe the views. Best part? I can ski to work.” He glanced over at me and seemed to put some pieces together. “Wait. Wait. Are you the Julian? Parker’s Julian?”
It wasn’t the first time someone had called me “Parker’s Julian,” but it struck me very differently, coming from this guy. Before I could answer, Parker threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, almost knocking us both over in our clunky ski boots.
“Yeah, this is Jules. He’s cute, right? And smart as hell. He’s a lawyer. He’s also—”
“Ha!” I burst in, trying to stop him before he said something else that might embarrass me or, worse, embarrass him. “I sound like a prime steer at auction.”
It was enough that he’d just had to tell his friend about calling off his wedding. I didn’t want to be the rebound relationship he’d have to try to explain next time he and Dallas met up. I wanted to protect Parker from everything that could hurt him, including himself.
The mischievous look on Parker’s face warned me a split second too late that I’d left myself wide open. “That would make you a nice, juicy piece of—”
I clapped a glove over his face and turned a cheerful grin at Dallas. “How long have you been in Aster Valley? You must know our friends Tiller and Mikey. Oh, and Sam and Truman, too.”
He laughed. “Yeah, they’re great. Mikey and Sam had their hands full through the holidays, but Tiller’s been here since the end of football season. Just in time for the skiing to ramp up. Can’t wait to see what it’s like next year when the lifts are open to the public and the runs are full of even more skiers.”
We chatted for a few more minutes before the radio clipped to Dallas’s jacket squawked. “Duty calls. Let me know if you guys need anything, and have fun today. Great to finally meet you, Julian.”
After he took off down the slope, we headed inside to find the skier Parker would be helping. We removed our gloves and unzipped our jackets, then headed to the enormous corner booth by the window, where Tiller and Mikey had asked us to meet them. But as we crossed the large, open restaurant, I realized that the third man at their table looked very familiar.
“Wait, that is the fitness app guy?” Parker grumbled under his breath as we approached. “Really? Tiller didn’t mention I’d be helping the dude from the bar and the… the Grindr.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked. As far as I could tell, Rocco had been nice both times he’d interacted with Parker.
“The problem is, the dude wanted to get in your pants, Jules,” he hissed. “Twice.”
I felt my chest expand with warmth and maybe a tiny bit of smug possessiveness… which was why I didn’t immediately notice when Parker’s cool, dry hand wrapped around my own and he threaded our fingers together like holding hands was a thing we did.
