AllFreeNovel
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We keep looking at each other. I lick my lips, and he follows the movement, his grip on my waist intensifying. He leans forward, and I take a deep breath, his eyes roving from my mouth up to my eyes again. “Let’s get going before we lose the light,” he grunts, pulling back and breaking the spell.
“Okay,” I say and watch him take a head start.
When we have a break, I share the homemade sandwiches with him, that Darlene, the sweet lady from the motel, gave me. He gulps them down like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. We kid around a lot, and I catch myself smiling more than I’ve done the last couple of years. Jesse is easy to be around. He doesn’t judge or want to win an argument for the sake of winning. I tell him about living in Los Angeles, and he listens while I ramble on. I don’t tell him my dad is Norman Kurton, even though he rides one of my father’s boards. Damn it, Dad. I can’t seem to escape my family.
“You okay?” Jesse asks when we get off the lift for the second time. I come to a full stop, snow flying everywhere. “Wow, where did that come from?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, tugging on my gloves.
“It’s like you’ve been riding for years. I guess you did once, if you grew up around here.”
My cheeks flush, and I flash him a grin. The laughter in his eyes is unmistakable.
“You’re just a good teacher,” I tell him, shrugging, angling my body and moving down the hill while he follows me.
“Damn, babe, that’s hot,” he says, laughing. And for the first time in years, I’m enjoying every minute of riding in the snow.
The hours go by in a heartbeat. I’m not afraid to swear or fall on my ass. Which I do more than I like. Jesse makes me laugh. I never met anyone who’s as carefree as he is. And I have to admit, he’s a great teacher. Once the lingo comes back to me, and after I kind of get the hang of it again, I only go down a handful of times. He always tells me to relax, just enjoy the ride, not frown so much.
“You don’t suck so much like you did a couple of days ago.”
He gets the finger for that one. “I like teasing you, Ace of Spades. You give as good as you receive,” he jokes, waggling his brows.
“Shut up.” I smile, almost knocking a kid over who’s gaping at him.
“Are you Jesse?” the little man asks, in awe of my teacher.
He nods. “I am,” he says, holding his fist out for the kid to bump, and he happily does. The boy starts to ask him about some snowboard tricks that Jesse answers before we make our way to the side of the slope. I want to ask him what’s up with all the people saying hello, or smiling at him whenever we’re in a lift or waiting in line.
A couple of guys Jesse’s age stop next to us. “Can we get a picture, dude?” one of the frat boys asks.
Jesse obliges and poses for every picture, asking the guys if they’re liking Aspen. He says goodbye to them, and before I can ask him if he’s a teacher of the month or something, a class of about twelve excited youngsters stop and ask him for a selfie. I hang back a little, looking at him while he crouches to get into the frame, talking with the kid’s teachers.
He says goodbye to them, and before I can blink, he stops next to me, snow flying all around us. “You love to do that, don’t you?” I ask, brushing the powder from my jacket.
He winks. “Best thing about being on a board is having fun,” he says, a line appearing between his brows. Why do I get the feeling the guy is under a shit ton of pressure? Is teaching so hard here?
“Your scowl says otherwise, snowboard guy,” I comment, staring at his frown and the crease on his forehead.
“Trust me, babe, when I tell you I don’t smile like this often,” he says, staring me down. “Got too much shit going on in the pipes.”
I shake my head, and he pushes me in the shoulder. And I actually stand my ground. “What’s up with all those people asking you for a picture? Are you a famous snowboarder or something?”
He shakes his head and pretends to lose his balance, holding on to my arms.Grinning, he drawls, “Tell me, did you have fun today?”
I blow out hard through my nose. The guy is good at keeping an air of mystery around him, but then again, I’m practically the same. I haven’t told him my family invented the snowboard they all use today and made Aspen the number one town in snowboarding. “Yeah, snowboard guy, I’m having fun.” It isn’t a lie. I’m having fun; the snow and the cold don’t bother me that much anymore.
“First one down is buying all the drinks,” he yells, getting a head start and flying down the hill.
“Shit,” I swear, going after him. He lets me win, and I would be lying if I wasn’t proud of myself for making it down the slope alive and kicking. He raises his hand in the air, and I high five him. Yep, that happened.
“Wanna grab a bite to eat?” he asks, while we both walk to our trucks, his one of the better-looking ones standing in the parking lot. I guess being a teacher must bring in a lot of green.
“Just friends,” he adds, probably because of the alarmed look on my face. He opens the door, shrugs off his jacket, and dumps it in the backseat. “And I’m hungry,” he drawls, pushing up the sleeves of his dark long-sleeved shirt. His strong arms are tanned, and when he turns his back to me, I swallow hard, staring at the muscles in his broad back flexing against the fabric of his shirt. Damn, he looks really good, for a friend. Jesse closes the door with a thud and looks at me. His gray eyes widen when he catches me staring, and his mouth hooks in a half-smile.
“I-I,” I say, stumbling over my words.
“What do you say, Ace?” he asks, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He doesn’t take his eyes off me. My tummy rumbles, and he apparently hears it too, judging by his chuckle. “Babe?” he rasps, rubbing his thumb back and forth over his plump bottom lip.
Yes, friends, is what we’re going to be. My life doesn’t need more complications. And definitely not one like Jesse.
