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The swaying cart stopped at the top of the mountain, and an overly helpful attendant practically carried me off. He must’ve recognized me as the owner’s daughter. At the very least, the other skiers did not get offered foot massages.
Ryder was shaking with laughter by the time I politely excused myself from the enthusiastic young man.
“Don’t even,” I snapped as soon as he opened his mouth. I leaned against a wood pillar, my puffy coat restricting my arm movements. I meant to cross them over my chest, but I settled for awkwardly placing my hands in my armpits when I realized the coat wouldn’t extend further. Ryder noticed my dilemmaand nearly fell over in laughter.
Good. I hope he falls down the mountain and lands on his head.
I continued to glare at him as the rest of the boys arrived. My eyes flicked towards Tam immediately, noting his skin was tinged with a grayish sheen. I winced in sympathy.
“What’s so funny?” Ronan asked, sidling up beside me and linking our arms. The movement was awkward, for our long skis prevented us from getting too close together.
“Ryder’s being a dick,” I said simply. When Ryder chuckled, I reached down, grabbed a snowball, and threw it at his face. The impact took him by surprise - though, really, he should’ve expected that from me by now - and he stumbled over his skis. I smiled in satisfaction as he collapsed in an undignified heap onto the snow.
“Aww. Did little Ryder fall over his little skis?” I cooed in a baby voice.
“You do realize that I have to get you back twice now. To keep things even, of course. Don’t think because you’re a girl I’m going to go easy on you.”
“I’m all about equality,” I sang. “I would like to see you try and take me down...RyRy.”
His expression froze at the nickname, and Ronan snorted beside me. Calax flashed me a tiny grin, though he was eyeing his friend with an unreadable expression.
Ryder staggered to his feet, and I was only slightly disappointed when he didn’t fall back down.
“I’ll have you know-”
“Ryder!” a familiar voice screeched. Dear lord, that voice sounded like a dying bird giving anal while simultaneously taking a shit.
It took me a moment to remember the name that belonged with the voice, though my mental self often compared myself to her. And found me lacking.
Elena.
Looking as fresh and perky as she had before at my pool.
With her damn fake tits...
“You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with her breasts,” Asher whispered from beside me. “Care to fill me in?”
He spoke softly enough that the other boys were oblivious to our conversation. Their eyes were instead fixated on Elena with varying degrees of annoyance.
“She makes me feel self-conscious,” I whispered back, my hands instinctively touching one of my boobs. “Do you think I have nice tits?”
Asher groaned, pink smearing his cheekbones.
“Sweetheart, that is one question you cannot ask a man.”
“But I thought we were friends?” I said, confused. “And friends talk about boobs and periods and stuff like that. Don’t bother denying it. I saw it on Netflix.”
Asher let out a pained grunt.
“That’s not the way it works.”
Ugh. I was already failing at the whole friendship thing. Note to self: don’t talk about vaginas and boobs around males. Apparently, that’s a no-no conversation.
“I just wanted to check on my boys after the earthquake. Are you guys all okay?” Elena asked, eyes flashing from face to face with something akin to worry. Declan rolled his eyes, but it was Ronan who spoke.
“We’re fine, Elena. And we’re not your guys.”
Her guys? Hmmm. Interesting.
